Something New
by AelinGreywaren
Summary: Clarke Griffin and Octavia Blake have been friends for years, but when her roommate kicks her out to move in with a new boyfriend, Clarke finds herself stranded. Next thing she knows she's forced to turn to the last person on Earth she'd ever imagine for help. Now she's got a new Blake for a roommate, and a life that just got a whole lot more complicated. (Modern day Bellarke AU)
1. Chapter 1 - Not So Same Old Routine

Not So Same Old Routine 

Clarke leaned forward, placing her half empty mojito on the bar, while trying not to choke on what she'd already swallowed. "Wait, what? You're dating _Lincoln_? Since when?"

When Octavia had texted her this morning, asking if she was down for drinks tonight, Clarke had said yes immediately. Work had kicked her ass this week, and she knew if she didn't go out tonight, she'd just end up collapsing into bed and laying there till Monday, binge-watching her life away.

_Hell yes_, she'd replied. _Any occasion?_

_You'll just have to wait and see ;)_

By this point in their friendship, Clarke knew exactly what that meant. Anytime O asked her out to the movies, dinner, for drinks, out of the blue like that, it usually meant one thing. A guy. She'd usually spend the whole night gushing about whatever new beau she had wrapped around her finger, and at the end of the night they'd always happen to "coincidentally" pop by and introduce themselves to Clarke. It had become their routine, and Clarke would have gotten annoyed with it by now, if it wasn't so damn entertaining. Plus, she wanted the drinks.

Her and Octavia had known each other since college. They'd been thrown together as roommates in Freshman year, and despite their drastic differences in personality, and rough beginnings, the two had been best friends ever since. They'd even gone on to the same Med School, UW, that was until Octavia decided to drop out and open her own coffee and music shop right in the downtown core of Seattle. It was a bold move, one Clarke envied her for. It was something she never would have done, no matter how much she'd been tempted too. Her mother would have killed her, and Octavia's brother's wrath would have been nothing compared to level of rage Abby Griffin would have let loose.

But in the end, it had all turned out for the best. Clarke had graduated and been lucky enough to score a residency spot right here in Seattle. The two had found an amazing apartment, steps away from the shop and only a 5 minute bike ride to the hospital. Even though she was exhausted and stressed out of her mind half the time, Clarke wouldn't change a thing about her life. When things got to be too hard, and she felt herself sinking back into her dark place, she always had Octavia by her side. Always there to lift her back up again.

O had always been the more free spirited one between the two of them, always open to whatever life threw at her. Clarke was the opposite. Her life was all about plans, and whenever those plans were thrown off balance, Octavia was always the one to keep her from losing her mind. She was also definitely the more... "wild" one, as their friends would say. Clarke knew her college experience would have undoubtedly been a whole lot more boring if it hadn't been for O dragging her ass out from the library, and sneaking them into off campus clubs. Even though they weren't in college anymore, that part of their dynamic still hadn't changed. Octavia was the one constantly dating up a storm, while Clarke was on the sidelines, choosing the safe route like she'd always done.

At this point, it was safe to say that Octavia had a certain "type" of guy she was drawn too. The loose canons, the pained musicians, the wild ones... intense, just like her. So Clarke was never surprised when after a week, two weeks, rarely sometimes more, Octavia would brush them off, get bored, and move on to the next one. But Lincoln… he was someone that Clarke would never have seen coming.

Octavia was beaming back at her, gripping Clarke's forearm so hard that she was scared she'd leave marks.

"It's been two months! Clarke, he's amazing, you have no idea, he's unlike anybody I've ever met before."

Clarke had been able to figure that much out for herself. Lincoln was the exact opposite of the guys that Octavia had typically gone for. Not in terms of physical attractiveness of course. The guy practically looked like a model, there was no denying that, but he was just so much more grounded, and level headed than the guys she'd see O with in the past. He was an army vet, he'd served for 4 years, before retiring after permanently injuring his arm on a mission. Clarke didn't know much about that, but she did know that now he worked as a guidance counselor and coach at a local high school, and spent his free time working with under privileged kids. He was a good guy all around, and she knew he'd probably be good for O. Even though she wouldn't have seen it coming, she was happy for her, but it wasn't Octavia's happiness that Clarke was worrying about right now.

"That's great O, really, I bet he is, but…"

Octavia released her grip from her hand, crossing her arms defensively.

"But what?"

Clarke didn't even want to ask.

"Does Bellamy know?"

Octavia's smile disappeared from her face, and she started to chew her bottom lip guiltily. Clarke scolded her friend, "Octavia! You're dating his roommate! He's going to find out eventually, and you know how Bellamy's going to react."

"I know, I know, it's awful, but I had to tell you first."

Clarke picked her mojito back up, taking a few long refreshing sips. The alcohol would help her process, or at least that's what she told herself. She felt the warmth spreading through her, and she was suddenly finding it hard to stay serious any longer.

"Two months huh?", she said grinning. "I'm actually kind of impressed. How did you even manage to keep it a secret for that long."

Octavia smiled back mischievously, "We were sneaky. And may have taken advantage of all those long hours at work you've been having lately." She winked, and took a sip of her own drink.

"God, O, I didn't need to know that." Octavia had never really understood the concept of boundaries when it came to sharing.

She simply raised her shoulders, "You're the one who asked, Griffin."

Clarke let out a laugh, "And don't I regret it."

"No you don't. Don't forget, I was the one who you spilled all your dirty little secrets to when you started dating Finn. And before him, Jason, and Lexa, and who was that guy from Freshmen year?"

Clarke let out a groan at the memory, and they both yelled out at the same time, "Wallace!"

She couldn't stop the laughs now, and tears were coming out of her eyes, "Oh god, don't remind me."

"You've seriously had a questionable dating past."

Clarke hit her on the arm playfully, "Hey. Don't even get me started on your exes. I could say the exact same thing about you."

Octavia shrugged nonchalantly again, "Can't argue with that. Remember Dax…"

The two reminisced for a while longer, ordering two more rounds of drinks, crying and laughing over some of the more tragic chapters of their dating pasts. Clarke's was slightly more on the dramatic break up side. She'd only been in two serious relationships before she'd met Finn, and both of those had ended pretty damn badly. And then there had been Wallace.. Clarke cringed at the thought. He was filed in her brain under "biggest mistake of her life". Octavia on the other hand had a wealth of ridiculous hook up and dating stories, and Clarke found herself snorting at all the nightmare worthy first dates she'd remembered her best friend going on in college. But after a while, she steered the conversation back to Lincoln.

"So, when are you planning on telling Bellamy that he's living with the guy who's banging his sister."

Octavia put her head in her hands and let out a groan, "God don't say it like _that. _I was actually planning on telling him right after this. Man, he's going to be pissed isn't he?"

Pissed was probably putting it lightly. Bellamy took over protective brother to a whole new level.

"Probably, but better to get it over with sooner than later. Besides, it's not like you're getting married or anything. He's dealt with you having boyfriends in the past, and let's not forget the fact that you're not sixteen anymore. You're both adults, you can handle this like ones."

Octavia smiled grimly, "Well… actually…"

Clarke felt her eyes bulge out in surprise, "Oh my god O, don't tell me you're marrying him. That's insane!"

Octavia shook her head violently, "God no, of course not. But… there is something else."

Clarke was confused now, and she raised her eyebrows to show it, leaning in closer so the back of her stool was off the ground. The alcohol she'd had was definitely doing the opposite of helping her process this better.

"O, what's going on? What is it?"

Octavia took in a deep breath, and the combination of her next words and all the alcohol she'd consumed, made Clarke fall right off of her chair.

"We're moving in together."

* * *

**A/N : **Hey guys! Here's the first chapter of another Bellarke fic that I just couldn't keep myself from writing, and it's definitely a lot lighter than anything I've written in the past. I've had the idea circling around in my head for a while now, so I figured that hiatus time was the perfect time to get it started. Sorry this chapter's a little short, and it's really only meant to be a bit of initial background/set up. I'll definitely be fleshing out Clarke and Octavia's past's more as the story goes on... and yes... by Wallace I do mean Cage Wallace... *gags*.

Anyways, this is my first time writing a multi chapter of this length (I'm going for the slow burn), or any kind of AU for that matter, so we'll see how this goes. I don't want to start sounding like a broken record so I'll just say it once now that reviews are always appreciated. I love getting feedback of any kind, so if you have the time, please feel free to leave them along the way :)

As always, none of the characters are mine. They all belong to the CW.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Mystery Girl

The Mystery Girl

The second Bellamy Blake stepped into his apartment, he threw his keys and laptop bag onto the counter, grabbed a cold beer from the fridge, and collapsed onto the couch in complete exhaustion. God, there was nothing he hated more than parent - teacher interviews. The semester had barely started, and he was already being bombarded by armies of concerned parents, panicking over whether or not their kids were going to fail AP history, and how that would affect their chances of getting into the Ivy's. He'd only given one quiz so far, and it had only been a diagnostic - a chance see what level of background these kids were working with. He had to admit the results weren't ideal, but it was nothing he couldn't handle, and he knew the kids would get the hang of it once they got some help. But apparently the sight of 50s and 60s had sent them running to the parents, and now he had to deal with the aftermath.

He took another swig of beer, and rubbed his temples trying to ease the massive headache he felt coming on. He flicked on the TV to try and take his mind off things. He'd never been one for sports so he settled on some mindless medical drama to have playing in the background, but before he could stop himself, he was on the edge of his seat, shouting at the characters on the screen.

He was interrupted mid infuriated rant, when he heard the door open and a second set of keys land on the counter.

"Hey man, you still alive?" he heard Lincoln call from kitchen.

Bellamy groaned in response, both out of exhaustion and out of annoyance that Lincoln was interrupting his show. Things were just getting good damnit.

He heard the clinking of bottles echo through the apartment as Lincoln grabbed his own beer and sunk down onto the recliner opposite him, resting his long legs on the coffee table.

"What the hell Bellamy, you're watching this shit again?"

Ok, so maybe the show was a bit more than just background noise. Maybe he had binged watch all 10 season on Netflix and now waited in agony to watch it live every week. Maybe it was an obsession. But he sure as hell wasn't going to admit it.

"No, it just flipped to this I swear, I'm just too tired to change it."

Lincoln scoffed, "And last week? And the week before, and - "

Bellamy took another chug of beer and waved it at him, "Shut up. O's forcing me to watch it obviously, you know how she gets about these things."

Lincoln let out a laugh, shaking his head and taking a drink of his own beer, "That I do. That I do."

Bellamy raised his eyebrow in question. He'd been picking up on these comments more on more over the past couple of weeks and he didn't know what to make of them. Lincoln had always been a stand up guy, he was even seeing someone now, but if the guy was starting to get ideas about Bellamy's sister.. well then, they were going to have a problem. But he was too tired to press him any further now and decided to switch the topic.

"What the hell are you doing back so early anyways. I thought you had another date with the mystery girl."

"We did, but plans got moved around a bit. She's actually coming over here instead, and hey... now maybe you can get a chance to meet her."

Well this was new. Bellamy had figured Lincoln was seeing someone from all the recent late nights. Then there was also the fact that he'd been hitting the gym five times a week, which Bellamy knew was something he only did when he was trying to impress a girl. After living together for over a year you start to pick up on these kinds of things.

The two had met at the faculty orientation last August. Bellamy's life, suffice it to say, had been a mess. He'd been kicked out of his last apartment, courtesy of his fugitive ex-roommate burning it down in a freak "accident", and was forced to crash at his sister's place, all while starting a new job. He'd walked into orientation already stressed beyond belief, and the fact that he was the only new hire for the year, was definitely not helping things whatsoever. He was by far the youngest and most inexperienced there. It had felt like every step he took was being scrutinized and judged - the senior staff members all waiting for him to fail.

In hindsight, he understood their apprehension. Bellamy certainly didn't look like someone fit to be teaching at the top prep school in Seattle. He'd never grown up like one of these kids, and even as an adult, walking down the arched halls never ceased to make him feel like an outsider. He would always have double to prove, but that only fueled him more, and he spent the rest of that year carving out his place, letting them all know that he too, belonged.

Lincoln had by far been the only person he could most relate too that day. Bellamy had been standing awkwardly by the snack table, fiddling around with some ridiculously small sandwiches, when a huge mass of a man walked up to him. His first thought was that he was security, and his second had been to run, but it turned out he was the guidance counselor, and like a typical person of his profession, he'd immediately started offering Bellamy some unsolicited advice about how to survive his first few weeks at Seattle Prep. Apparently Bellamy wasn't the only one who hadn't received the warmest welcome.

Details aside, the two had ended up moving in together. Lincoln wanted someplace bigger and Bellamy didn't care, as long as he could get off his sister's couch. They'd ended up finding a place close by to Octavia, right downtown, and the living arrangement had worked out ever since. Bellamy wouldn't say they were best friends or anything like that. To be perfectly honest the closest person in his life had always been Octavia, but Lincoln was definitely the best roommate he'd every had. He was clean, always remembered the important things (the beer), but most conveniently he was private, just like himself. They'd brought girls back to the apartment before, but there had never been the pressure of introductions, or the awkward "meet my roommate" over pancakes brunch. Their private lives were just that, private. But apparently that no longer applied to the mystery girl.

"What brought this about?", Bellamy asked.

Lincoln started to shift uncomfortably in his seat, and all of a sudden seemed to be extremely interested in his phone, turning it on and off like he was waiting for something.

"I just think you two should meet, you know?"

Bellamy shrugged, "Ok, whatever, fine by me." Maybe this girl was just extra hot and Lincoln wanted to show her off.

Lincoln set down his beer and reached for the remote, and to Bellamy's dismay, lowered the volume of the TV. His demeanor had all of a sudden become more serious, something that led Bellamy to believe this wasn't just some fleeting fling.

"I'm just really serious about this girl Bellamy, this really feels like the real thing."

Ok, now things were getting weird. The deepest conversation the two of them had ever had about a girl had been about the 60 year old feisty librarian, Mrs. Thornberry - and even that conversation had been the spawn of too many shots and wasn't something Bellamy really wanted to repeat. Although that woman did have insane legs for her age. He shook his head violently to clear his mind from the memory.

"Uhh.. That's great man? I'm really happy for you? Do I… uh.. do I need to get changed or something? Are we trying to impress her?"

He cringed at how pathetic he sounded, but he was starting to get annoyed. All he'd wanted to do was come home, drink a beer, and watch some Grey's Anatomy damn it. This was not how he'd envisioned the night going.

Lincoln laughed nervously, "Nah, you're good. I've told her all about you, she knows what to expect."

Bellamy raised an eyebrow, "She knows all about me and yet she's still with you? Clearly you haven't been describing my charm with justice. I'm much harder to resist in person." He'd just been trying to lighten the mood. It was a terrible joke, Bellamy knew that, but the way all the colour seemed to drain from Lincoln's face, you'd think Bellamy had just told him he killed someone.

"Ok… bad joke." he raised his hands to admit.

"_Awful_ joke." Lincoln replied, shaking his head and whispering to himself again, "_awful joke_."

Bellamy decided he was clearly going to need some more alcohol to get through this night, and stood up to walk back to the kitchen to grab himself another beer.

"You want another?" he called.

"Oh yeah", Lincoln responded, and Bellamy thought he heard him mutter something else, along the lines of 'I'll need it' under his breath.

His head was in the fridge as he leaned down to grab two more bottles, when he was startled by a knock on the door. He jumped, smashing his head into the top of the refrigerator, and letting out a trail of obscenities.

"I'll get it!", Lincoln called, running to open the door.

Bellamy was still rubbing his head when he heard, two distinct female voices, their shouts coming from the doorway. He barely had time to put the bottles down, before a body smashed into him.

"Hey big brother!"

Bellamy let out a groan, hugging his sister tight, before pushing her away. "Jesus, O, what the hell? You almost gave me a fucking heart attack." But his anger quickly faded, he couldn't stay mad at her for long, not when she gave him that ridiculous smile. He gave her another hug, one armed this time, and patted her head. It was only then that he registered that Octavia hadn't come alone, and a blonde was standing in the opening of the kitchen, her back to him, talking to Lincoln. It took him a few seconds before he realized that the girl was obviously Clarke Griffin. Of course it was, who else would let Octavia drag them out here. Bellamy shook his head, catching himself staring, before calling out "Hello to you too, Princess."

Clarke turned and let out what sounded like a snarl, and Bellamy chuckled to himself.

Octavia pulled away and smacked him on the arm.

"You know she hates that Bellamy."

Bellamy just shrugged. He focused his gaze back to his sister, and quickly registered that she was struggling to stay on balance, and her words were starting to slur. He steeled his gaze, frowning down at her.

"I'm guessing someone's drunk?" he said, crossing his arms.

"You're one to talk.", Octavia spat back at him, gesturing to the beers on the counter.

Bellamy let out a sigh, dealing with his sister never seemed to get any easier.

"What are you doing here O? Not that I mind the stopping by, but apparently Lincoln and I have plans tonight. His girlfriend's coming over…" he gestured at Lincoln, "when was she supposed to get here again?"

He thought he saw Clarke face palm in the background, and Lincoln looked like he wanted to pass out.

Octavia started to step back from him slowly, "Actually Bell… that's what I came here for."

Bellamy furrowed his brows in confusion, "What? You came to meet Lincoln's girlfriend?"

"Oh Lord help us," Clarke muttered into her palm.

None of this was making any sense, and Bellamy was about to state that when Octavia finally stopped, right beside Lincoln, her hand snaking around his waist. Bellamy felt his eyes widen, and his heart jump.

What. The. Fuck.

* * *

**A/N : **This was pretty much another intro chapter, only this time giving a bit of background on Bellamy and Lincoln's living situation. And yes, Bellamy is a giant Grey's Anatomy fan. Updating soon may be hard this week, as things are getting a bit insane school wise, but I hope you're enjoying things so far :) Hopefully waiting for the Bellamy blow up will be worth it.


	3. Chapter 3 - Miscommunications

Miscommunications

Bellamy took a stepped forward, and Lincoln immediately put his hands out in front of his chest, taking a defensive stance.

"Now uhh Bellamy, don't overreact"

Bellamy couldn't fucking believe this. _His sister? _Out of all the women in Seattle, Lincoln had to go ahead and date his sister!

"Overreact? _Overreact_?"

Clarke leaned forward and whispered rather loudly into Octavia's ear, "I think he's going to overreact" Bellamy shot her a glare and she immediately shut her mouth.

"Yeah ok, I want no part in this" she declared and he saw her hobble past him into the kitchen.

Bellamy refocused his sights on Lincoln.

"What the hell do you think you're doing with _my sister?_"

Octavia stepped in front, blocking Bellamy's access to Lincoln.

"What he thinks is that he's dating me. Look Bell, this isn't Lincoln's fault.. I'm the one who told him not to tell you."

Bellamy tried to push past her, "That doesn't matter, he shouldn't have fucking gone after you in the first place."

Octavia shoved against his chest, and proceeded to cross her arms and scoff, "Oh please big brother, give me some credit here. I'm the one who went after him, not the other way around."

Bellamy groaned and rubbed his eyes with his palms. God his head hurt. All he'd wanted to do was come home tonight and get some peace and quiet. Now he had to deal with a roommate who was dating his sister, and of course, once again, he was the one looking like the bad guy in all this. This is the way it had always been, ever since O had been in high school. All he'd wanted to do was protect her from the assholes that were trying to take advantage of her. And yet every time he'd tried to stop her from seeing them, all for her own good, she'd ended up hating him. He could never win, so eventually she'd just stopped telling him about any of the men in her life. He supposed that was for the best, but this. How the hell was he supposed to ignore _this_? It was his roommate for crying out loud!

"Get out of my way, Octavia", he growled.

She glared at him, "Bellamy, I'm not a kid anymore. You can't just go around beating up every guy I try to date."

He let out a sigh, "Are you through?"

"That depends, are you going to promise not to beat my boyfriend to a pulp?"

Lincoln let out a nervous laugh, "Please, like he could take me."

Bellamy raised a brow and narrowed his eyes, "You really want to test that out Linc? I wouldn't want Doc over there to have to fix up any broken bones tonight."

"NO part in this!" Clarke yelled from the kitchen.

He was satisfied to see some fear in the guys eyes. Lincoln may have been the beefier of the two, but Bellamy had done more than his share of roughing people up in his day. Intimidation had been his forte, and he was glad to see he still got it.

"Bellamy…", Octavia warned.

"Alright, alright, relax O, I'm not going to hurt him. Lincoln and I are just going to have a little chat."

Lincoln nodded, "It's fine, Octavia really."

Octavia stepped back hesitantly, "I'm trusting you two, remember, we're all adults here. Clarke and I will be in the kitchen…"

She walked past him slowly, and Bellamy was left alone with Lincoln.

They moved out from the hall and back into the living room area, Lincoln leaning against the back of the couch and Bellamy standing straight.

"Want to start explaining what the fuck is going on?"

Lincoln bowed his head, "Look Bellamy, I really am sorry. I wanted to tell you, but Octavia… she said you probably wouldn't react in the best way."

Bellamy muttered under his breath, "That's preposterous."

"Seriously?" Lincoln said with a deadpan voice, "I thought you were going to kill me for a second."

Bellamy shrugged, "I considered it."

Lincoln's expression turned more serious, "Look, I feel awful about lying to you, but I don't want you to think that I'm just any other guy who's using her ok? I wasn't kidding earlier when I said I think your sister is the real thing, I care about her…"

Lincoln averted his gaze, staring towards the direction of the kitchen, where Bellamy could just make out the voices of Clarke and Octavia whispering away.

"I care about her _a lot_."

Even though he was still royally pissed that they'd been hiding this from him, he had to admit, maybe he was overreacting just a little bit. Besides, he was pretty sure O could do worse. At least Lincoln had a job, and so far as Bellamy could tell, wasn't insane. Maybe this could actually turn out to be a good thing… besides, if Octavia was dating his roommate, at least he could keep an eye on him. That way if he tried to pull anything over his sister, well, he certainly wouldn't be getting away with that.

Bellamy sighed, "I'm not saying I'm ok with this, because good guy or not, I'm still pissed that you two went behind my back."

Lincoln nodded, "I respect that."

"But.. I'm not going to try to mess with whatever the hell it is you two have going on. As long as my sister's happy, well, I can live with this. So if you're worried about me trying to break you two up, or break your bones.. you don't have to be."

Lincoln laughed, "Thanks man, appreciate it. You know, especially the not killing me part."

Bellamy steeled his glare, "Let me be clear though, if you ever do anything to hurt my sister, you and I are going to have a problem. A big one."

Lincoln looked at him earnestly, "You don't have to worry about that Bellamy, not ever. I would never do anything to hurt her."

Somehow, a part of Bellamy believed him, but he sure as well wasn't going to let him off the hook just yet. "Good. I'm still annoyed with you two though, I guess you'll just have to give me a few days to get used to this."

Lincoln smiled grimly, "Uh, before you get too used to things… there's probably something else you should know."

Bellamy's thoughts immediately flashed to pregnancy, and he was just about to take back everything he'd said about not punching him, when Lincoln continued, "We're uhh, we're actually moving in together."

Bellamy just couldn't catch a fucking break.

"Octavia!"

* * *

"Well that could have gone worse", Octavia said as she leaned against the fridge, facing Clarke who was perched atop the counter, enjoying a bag of chips she'd found in the pantry. Normally she would be opposed to snooping, but she was still fuzzy from all the drinks, and right now, her stomach trumped manners. Clarke had retreated to the kitchen, not wanting to get involved in the Blake family drama, but that didn't stop her from hearing the entire conversation anyways.

"To be honest I'm surprised your brother didn't get in a punch."

Even though Clarke had known Octavia for years now, and all of them lived in the same city, her interactions with her friend's older brother had been limited. The two never really went out of their way to spend much time together, the only times Clarke came over to the apartment being when Octavia dragged her there. It was fair to say that her and Bellamy had never really clicked. And by never really clicked, Clarke meant, that he was an ass. Ever since freshman year of college he'd gotten the idea that she was some spoiled rich Princess, and that stereotype had stuck. She'd had a crush on him for about five seconds, the first time she'd seen him, but that had ended the second he'd opened his mouth and made some rude comment. One she still remembered to this day. Nonetheless, the two had butted heads ever since. The only time she had to tolerate his presence was when Octavia was around. For Clarke, she'd only ever seen him as stubborn and annoying, and clearly overprotective of his younger sister, and tonight's events were just another example of that.

Octavia laughed, "Not going to lie, I was worried there for a second."

She stepped away from the fridge to come and stand next to Clarke. Octavia leaned over the counter trying to peak into the living room where Bellamy and Lincoln were talking, out of sight.

"Damn, I wish we could hear what they were saying."

Clarke reached into the bag and pulled out another chip, then passed it over to Octavia.

"Relax, have some chips."

Octavia grabbed a handful and munched on them anxiously, leaning her head on Clarke's shoulder.

Clarke rested her chin on Octavia's head reassuringly, "O, he's probably just giving Lincoln the typical big brother shake down. The whole "hurt my sister and I hurt you" schpeel."

"I guess you're right."

Clarke yawned sleepily, "I always am. Unless… do you think Lincoln would tell him about moving in?"

At that moment, they heard Bellamy scream out from the living room. Octavia jumped, jerking her head violently and crashing it right into Clarke's nose. Clarke's head snapped back and she felt a blinding pain in the center of her face, a warm trickle of blood trailing down from her nose.

"Shit, oh my god Clarke, shit I'm so sorry. _Fuck_."

Clarke could hear Octavia shuffle some things around on the counter until she grabbed a towel. She ran it under some cold water and gave it to Clarke, "Here, put this on it, oh my god I'm so sorry."

Clarke took the damp towel and pressed it to her nose and groaned. She felt her whole face throbbing, and her vision started to go spotty.

"Here, come on, let's go sit you on the couch."

Octavia wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her off the counter. They were just about to leave the kitchen when Bellamy stormed in, "Octavi - wow, what the hell happened in here?"

Clarke snapped at him, "What do you think happened? Maybe it has something to do with that fact that you were screaming bloody murder and giving the rest of us a heart attack!"

Though it was blurry, Clarke saw him reach up a hand and scratch the back of his head awkwardly. Octavia was the one to diffuse the tension.

"Bell, can you grab some ice and wrap it up in some paper towel or something?"

"Yeah, sure."

Octavia walked Clarke to the couch, and even the motion of sinking down into the leather cushions made her head go dizzy all over again. Bellamy was back in a few seconds, ice in hand.

"Thanks", Clarke said - her voice muffled by the towel that was already covering half her face. She removed it, and replaced it with the one that Bellamy had brought her. God, she probably looked like such an idiot.

She saw him nod, and turn his gaze back to Octavia and Lincoln, who were standing side by side, next to the couch.

"So, you're moving in together? How exactly is that going to work? Are we going to be roommates again little sis?"

Clarke heard Lincoln choke, and Octavia spoke up, "God no, of course not, don't be ridiculous."

Now that Bellamy mentioned it, Clarke was curious as to how exactly this whole living situation would work out. She hadn't really had much time to ask Octavia about it at the bar, they'd been a little bit pre-occupied picking her up off the floor. Her ass still hurt from the fall. She just assumed that Lincoln would move in with them. It wasn't the ideal situation, but what other options were there?

She piped up, trying to speak as clearly as she could, "Yeah, O, what is going to happen? Is Lincoln just going to move in with us?"

"What?", she heard Lincoln question, "No that's not the plan. Octavia, I thought you told her?"

Bellamy let out a sigh of frustration, "Clearly neither of us have been told anything so please, enlighten us, what exactly is the '_plan_'". Clarke couldn't decide if that was a good enough excuse to use air quotes.

Clarke turned to face Octavia. Her friend was standing awkwardly, her hands fiddling behind her back - something Clarke knew she only did when she was nervous.

"O?" Clarke asked softly.

She saw Lincoln reached behind Octavia's back, and clutch her hand. Clarke smiled on the inside, seeing how her friend immediately seemed to relax under his touch. She had to admit, when Octavia had first told her about Lincoln she'd been skeptical. But now, it was becoming easier and easier to picture.

"Clarke, I was going to tell you, I just didn't know how to… but, Lincoln and I found a new apartment together, I'm sorry."

Well this was unexpected. Clarke shook her head in confusion. Bellamy was the first to speak, "Wait, Lincoln what? You're moving out? When?"

Octavia bit her lower lip, guilt splaying across her features. "A week."

Clarke and Bellamy yelled out at the same time, "_A week?_"

* * *

**A/N : **Hey everyone! I'm sorry this chapter took longer for me to update, things were insane school wise this week. But on the bright side, I should have Chapter 4 up a lot sooner (considering I've already written most of it), since I actually ended up splitting this chapter cause it was getting to be waaay too long, so yay for that!

I also wanted to just say a quick thanks to everyone who has been keeping up with this story! I'm so happy to hear that you're enjoying it so far, cause I am definitely enjoying writing it! Hopefully this update didn't disappoint :)


	4. Chapter 4 - An Idea

An Idea

Clarke felt numb. And that wasn't just from the ice on her face. She felt her mind going a thousand miles a minute trying to process everything all at once. She was happy for Octavia, of course she was, but in one night she'd not only found out that her best friend was seeing someone new, but that she was moving out too. Clarke and Octavia had lived together for the past 8 years, and the thought of that changing, and so soon, made her stomach drop. She'd known it would have happened eventually, but not within a week!

She sat there dumbfounded, holding the towel to her face. To be honest, she was actually glad it was there - it gave her something to mask the shock. Clarke breathed an internal sigh of relief when Bellamy was the one to break the silence.

"Lincoln, what the hell man? I can't afford this place on my own!"

He verbalized the same worry that she was feeling right now too, and in that moment Clarke suddenly became painfully aware of what this would mean for her, not just in an emotional sense, but a logistic one.

The apartment they were living in didn't come cheap by any standards, and they'd been lucky enough to score it at a fraction of the price. The owner of the building had been one of Clarke's mother's patients from over a decade ago, back when Abby had still lived in Seattle. She didn't know the extent of Carol's relationship with her mother, but Clarke knew that the woman owed her her life. The two still talked, and emailed, and were apparently still close enough that when Carol had found out that Clarke was in fact _the Clarke_, Dr. Abby Griffin's daughter, she had insisted they take the place and had gone to unprecedented lengths to make sure they were able to.

But even with Carol's generosity, rent was still a squeeze, every month. Even Octavia didn't know how bad things got some times because as far as her best friend was concerned, Clarke was still living off of her inheritance. Clarke may have shared her mother's name and occupation, but that was all. The two hadn't spoken directly in three years, and she'd stopped accepting money from her family for even longer. She was tired of going through life on the back of their money and their influence, she was doing this on her own terms. She'd worked two jobs while putting herself through medical school, and by the looks of it, she'd still spend the next good half of her life trying to pay off those loans, but it was worth it. Her independence would always be worth it.

Octavia walked closer to the couch and leaned towards her, "Hey, I'm so sorry, I really didn't want to tell you like this."

Clarke could hear Lincoln and Bellamy talking harshly in the background. For once in her life she knew exactly the anxiety Bellamy Blake was going through. Octavia must have sensed her spacing out because she came over to the side and sat next to her on the couch and squeezed her shoulder. Clarke tried to say something, but it ended up coming out like a muffled mess.

"Uhhh, you're going to have to repeat that for me babe."

Clarke removed the ice towel from her face, and was relieved at the fact that she'd finally stopped bleeding.

She tried to nod as reassuringly as she could, but even Clarke knew she couldn't pull off a convincing performance, she'd never been good at concealing her emotions. "I said it's ok, really. I know how badly you want this. I just.. I'm going to miss you O." She felt a lump well up in her throat, and she choked back the sobs that were threatening to come out of her.

Octavia scooted closer and wrapped her in her arms.

"I'm going to miss you too Griffin", she whispered, resting her chin on top of Clarke's head. They stayed like that for a moment longer, before Octavia pulled away. Clarke thought she could see wetness on her friends cheeks, but that was wiped away quickly.

"Besides, it's not like I'm going far. Our place is literally just a few blocks away, it's got a great view and…

They were interrupted by another outburst from Bellamy, who was gesturing violently at Lincoln. "Well what am I going to do about rent next week? It's not like I can find a roommate in a day Linc!"

Octavia's excited expression quickly morphed into a look of guilt. "Oh shit, oh my god. I'm such an asshole, oh my god Clarke I didn't even think about what me moving out would mean for you. I guess I've just been so carried away with Lincoln… you're going to be ok with rent right?"

Clarke's stomach twisted into knots. Their lease was going to be up in 10 days - the two hadn't even talked about renewing it yet. Clarke had just assumed it'd be a sure thing, but now with O leaving… there was no way she could afford to live there on her own. And she definitely wasn't going to ask Carol, or even worse, her mother for any favours. No, her only option was going to be to move out.

She hadn't even noticed that Bellamy and Lincoln had moved closer to them, and of course the older Blake couldn't stop himself from piping up at that last remark.

Bellamy scoffed and rolled his eyes heavenward, "Of course _the Princess_ is going to be ok."

Clarke felt any anxiety she was feeling transform into anger. Who the hell did he think he was? She worked just as hard for her money as he did, but of course he still saw her as the spoiled little girl he'd met years ago. She'd taken it for too long, and maybe it was the stress or maybe it was the pounding in her head, but Clarke had finally had enough.

"If you have something to say to me, just say it."

"Guys…", Octavia begged.

Bellamy crossed his arms, "All I'm saying is that for some people, this new living arrangement is more than just an inconvenience. Not all of us have a trust fund we can fall back on when things get tough."

"_Bellamy_," Octavia warned, "Leave her alone."

Clarke ignored her and stood up, stalking over to where Bellamy was standing. "Not that it's any of your business", she said, taking a step closer, "but I'm in the exact same fucking boat as you. If I don't find someone new to live with in the next week, I'm going to be homeless too, so you can keep your judgmental, "holier than thou" comments to yourself."

They were only about an arms length apart at this point, but Bellamy betrayed no signs of backing down, or discomfort. He simply looked down at her with a testing smirk, "What, you get yourself cut off or something Princess?"

Clarke met him, stare for stare. She thought back to the events that had led her to excising herself from her family, her mother, so drastically. The memory brought a stabbing pain to her chest, but she quashed it down. She'd become a master at suppressing that dark shadow that tainted her past. Octavia knew that Clarke and her mother had a strained relationship, but Clarke had spared her the details. It was just easier for everyone else to think that the issues that ran within the Griffin family were typical upper class family drama. And despite the ways people, and not just Bellamy Blake, treated her as an entitled "Princess", it was still easier than having them know the truth.

"Something", she snapped back.

She became painfully aware at how close they were standing, one of them, or maybe both, had shifted even closer so that now Clarke's nose was just inches away from his chest.

Octavia got up, and came to stand beside Clarke, forcing her to rip her gaze away her brother.

"Clarke, I didn't know things were... I guess I just didn't think things would be so bad for you. Look, if you need help, I'll pay for my half of the lease. I'm the one who caused this entire mess."

Clarke shook her head, "I'm not going to let you do that O, ok, it's done. I'll either just find a new roommate or find a new place."

Bellamy scoffed, again, and Clarke was starting to think that was a trend of his. An annoying one. "Good luck finding a roommate, or at least one who isn't a wack job, now. Sorry to break it to you, but we're basically fucked."

Clarke grimaced, she knew he had a point. Clarke didn't even know how people went about finding roommates anymore. She knew there was practically no one she could turn to at the hospital. Everyone's living arrangements were already solid - there'd even been an orientation night for residents new to the city, looking for places to live, but that had been months ago.

She backed away from him and plopped back down to the couch, and groaned, rubbing a hand against her head which was still ringing from the impact with Octavia. She looked to the clock hanging on the wall above the TV, and was annoyed to see that it was already past midnight. She was tired, her head and ass hurt, and at this point all she wanted to do was get out of this stupid apartment and go to bed. She wanted to pretend like this entire night had never happened, and she didn't even want to think about the hangover she'd have to nurse tomorrow.

The only bright side was, that at least there was no possible way for things to get worse.

"Well you know… I think I might have an idea how to fix this problem", Clarke slowly shot her head up and looked at Lincoln skeptically.

"Oh really, what's that?" Bellamy retorted, "Is it not moving in with sister?"

"God Bellamy, shut up." Octavia said. Clarke could tell that even Octavia was getting exhausted, her friend always got grouchy when the night started to get the best of her. But on the other hand, that testiness could just be coming from too much time with Bellamy.

"Funny", Lincoln said, "Real funny... but no. I was thinking... you need a roommate... and Clarke needs a roommate, so…

Oh god. She could tell where this was going. '_Don't say it_' she thought, Please Lincoln do not say it.

"Why don't you two just move in together?"

For the first time all night, it seemed as if Bellamy had nothing to say. Clarke had been wrong before, things could definitely get worse.

She was the one to break the silence this time, "You're kidding right? Please tell me you're kidding."

Octavia piped in hesitantly, "Well… actually… It's not that bad of an idea Clarke. Bellamy's place is only a few blocks from where we are now, so you'd still be close to the hospital, and close to Lincoln and I. Besides it could just be temporary."

Lincoln continued for her, "Yeah, and you're both workaholics too, so it's not like you'd have to see each other much, which I'm guessing is a plus."

Not seeing him at all would be a plus. Not having to leave her apartment would be a plus. Having to live with Bellamy Blake, even if temporarily, that was not her idea of a plus.

"Enough!" Bellamy cried out, "Could you please stop talking like this is something that is actually happening? I mean, there's absolutely no way this is happening."

He was right. There was absolutely no way this was happening. Bellamy Blake was the last person on the planet she would turn to for help. She'd find a way out of this. A way that didn't involve him.

Clarke got up from the couch, and stalked back over to the counter, to grab her purse that she'd thrown on there earlier. Her head was spinning, but she didn't care. All she wanted to do was get out of here.

"Where do you think you're going?" Bellamy called out after her.

Clarke spun back around and threw her hands up in exasperation, "To measure out space for where I'm going to put my doilies and flower arrangements up in your kitchen, where do you think I'm going asshole?"

She heard Lincoln unsuccessfully try to stifle a snort.

"Clarke," Octavia called out, her voice laced with worry, "Are you sure you're ok?"

No, she finally admitted to herself. She definitely was not ok.

"I'm fine O, but it's late. I'm tired, and I've had enough of this for one night. I'll see you at home."

She was about to head back to the hallway and walk out the door, but stopped and turned back to face Bellamy, who was still standing there with arms crossed and a tense expression clouding his face.

"And _you_ can relax. There is no way in hell that this is happening."

With that Clarke turned around, and finally left the apartment. As she heard the door close, she finally took a moment to stop, and leaned against the wall of the hallway. Bellamy may have been a total ass, but he was right about one thing. Without a roommate, and without a plan, she was fucked.

* * *

**A/N: **And here's chapter 4! I know there hasn't been too much on the Bellarke front just yet, but like I said, I'm going in for the slow burn :P There's also some new characters coming up in the next couple of chapters, including my number one fave, Murphy!

Anyways I just wanted to say a mass thanks for all the reviews so far - I know I suck at replying to them, and I'll try to be better with that, but just know that every single one of them make my day! :)


	5. Chapter 5 - Reconsiderations

Reconsiderations

The lunch bell rang, giving Bellamy the signal that it was time he wrapped up his lecture. "Alright, that concludes our discussion on the Dark Ages. For next class I want you to read Chapter 4, "Archaic Greece", and start thinking about how the structure of the polis differed from anything seen in Greece before."

He was met with blank stares, and he knew none of them would do the readings unless they were given incentive. "Hint. It'll be on the quiz next week."

"What chapter was that again sir?"

And there it was. A flurry of notebooks re opened as the students started to pen the information down in their planners. He repeated his instructions and jotted the exact page numbers down on the board, underlining a couple key ideas: "polis", "phalanx", and "Greek citizenship".

Once they were done, the students shuffled out of his room, leaving him alone. This class was his last for the day, so he packed up his books, and laptop bag and headed out the door, making his way down the hall to the humanities staff room. Bellamy taught 4 different classes at Seattle Prep: Freshman US History, AP European, and AP World History, and finally his favorite, the one that had just ended: History of the Ancient Greek and Roman World. He'd always had a soft spot for it.

He entered the staff room, dropping his bag on the round table and grabbing an apple from the basket. He walked over to the bulletin board where he'd posted a flyer advertising for a new roommate, and checked to see if there had been anymore names added to the "contact me" list. He huffed in disappointment when he saw there were none. He'd known posting a listing around the school would have been pointless, most of the other professors and teachers were all twenty years his seniors – there'd been a fat chance they would have been looking for roommates.

He sank down on the old sofa in the corner of the room, and bit into the fruit. He checked his watch and saw that it was still only 12:05 – Bellamy had another good half hour until he was supposed to meet Octavia at "the Ark" for lunch. He took a few more bites and threw the apple into the trash across the room, and smiled smugly to himself when it landed. He still got it.

Bellamy decided he might as well be productive with his time and get a head start on marking his freshman quizzes. He reached into his bag to pull them out, when he was interrupted by a deep voice coming from the other side of the room.

"Nice shot Blake."

Bellamy's heart jumped a little, just from the shock. He looked up to see Professor Martin peering at him from atop a book. The man was the schools best and oldest English teacher, and you never found him too far away from a battered copy of Dickens.

"Uhh, thank you Martin?"

Bellamy turned back to his papers, expecting the conversation between the two to have ended, but he was surprised to see the old man move from his spot to plop right down next to Bellamy on the couch.

"Say Blake, you still looking for one of those roommates?"

"Yes, I am."

Martin shifted uncomfortably closer, and Bellamy thought he could smell the faintest trace of something on his breath, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it.

"You know, I know some people who are looking for a place."

Bellamy was skeptical, but at the same time, he couldn't help but feel hesitantly optimistic.

"You do?'

Martin nodded, "Mmhm yes, I was talking to one of my suppliers and he's really in a bind, could use a place to crash."

Bellamy leaned back slightly and raised an eyebrow, "Suppliers?"

Martin looked shiftily to the side, left and right. "You know. For the marijuana."

And that explained the smell. Great. So now Bellamy's future living prospects included shacking up with a drug dealer. Fantastic.

Bellamy got up from the couch, shoved the papers into his bag and tossed it over his shoulder.

"That's uh, great Martin thanks, and I'll consider that for sure…"

Martin stared at him blankly. The man reminded him of a wise owl, or as Bellamy now pieced together, a stoned one. "Please do, please do." With that, the professor stuck his nose back into his book and Bellamy bolted out of the staff room.

Because he was running so early, he decided to walk to the Ark instead of bussing it. It was a crisp fall day in Seattle, and by some miracle it actually wasn't raining. He figured he should probably make the most of it.

Fifteen minutes later he rounded the corner and Octavia's café came into view. For a location right in the heart of downtown, the place never ceased to remind him of somewhere quaint. It was almost like a little piece of small town right in the heart of the city. The café was located on the ground floor of one of Seattle's old brownstones, and even though it was nothing like where he and O had grown up, it somehow managed to remind him of home.

He opened the door and entered, the café was abuzz with people – all coming in for the lunchtime rush. He scanned the chaotic scene for Octavia, but she was nowhere to be found. Bellamy grumbled to himself, and started pushing through the line of people crowding the entrance. The Ark was divided into three separate sections – the café and eatery, which if he was being honest, served some of the best bagels in town. Then there was the live lounge; O was always featuring some local bands there three times a week. On the other nights it was considered an "open mic" and anyone with the balls to do it could go up there and sing, something he definitely would never do.

"Up here, Bell!"

Bellamy craned his neck up and saw O leaning over the banister and waving to him. That was the third section, and his favorite one. He got to the back of the café area and took the stairs that lead up to the "book nook". It was basically just a small cranny with over stacked shelves and a couple of sofas and chairs, but Bellamy could spend hours up there. It was like O ran her own little library, and the only rules were if you wanted to take or loan any of the books, you had to bring one in yourself, but after that your options were unlimited.

He finally reached the top step. The area was empty except for O who was struggling to stuff a book into one of the already over cramped shelves. Bellamy took it from her and put it onto a higher one, out of her reach, but at least it was emptier.

"Thanks Bell" Octavia said panting and slightly out of breath.

"You know you should really invest in some more shelves up here."

Octavia gave him a patronizing glare. "I'll add it to the list of everything else that I need to fix up around here", she said with a huff, and plopping down onto the sofa. Bellamy could see that she was exhausted, running the Ark wasn't exactly a piece of cake and mornings were usually her busiest times until the nights.

"Am I late or are you early?"

Bellamy sat down in an armchair across from her.

"Early."

"Well that's a nice change", Octavia stretched her arm out to grab a giant mug of coffee that was teetering on one of the shelves above her head.

"So big brother, how goes the roommate hunt? Did you meet Alex?"

Bellamy groaned. Octavia had posted up some of his flyers around the café and texted a few of her "friends" that she thought might be looking for a place. So far Bellamy had met with six different guys – all loud and all musicians, not exactly his idea of a perfect roommate.

"Oh I met Alex", Bellamy said.

Octavia put the mug down and threw her hands up, "I know what the voice means. Alright spit it out, what was wrong with this one."

"Nothing, nothing, except for the fact that he wanted to know if I was '_cool_' with him brining over the '_guys_' for a '_jam sesh_.'"

Octavia raised her brow, "You really need to lay off with the air quotes."

Bellamy continued, "Also, he's 19. I'm not living with a child."

His sister sighed in exasperation, "Bellamy, it's already Thursday. You've turned down every single person I've sent your way. No offense, but if you need a roommate as bad as you say you do, you can't afford to be picky."

"I'm not 'picky'."

"You're doing it again!"

"Shut up", Bellamy mumbled under his breath. "Look, I don't see what's wrong with wanting a decent roommate. Someone who's not a musician, or a drug dealer."

Octavia shook her head and put her coffee down onto the ground, "Wow, wait, I didn't send you any drug dealers."

"I know, but old Dr. Martin on the other hand kindly offered to put me into contact with some."

Octavia frowned, "You and Lincoln work at such a weird place."

"Tell me about it. Anyways, I just want someone who's clean, quiet, considerate, and who I won't need to worry about burning my place down. Is that too much to ask for?"

Octavia smiled at him knowingly.

"What's with the face?"

"You know who's all of those things?"

Bellamy knew exactly what she was going to say.

"Clarke!" She finished dramatically.

Bellamy groaned and rubbed his hand through his hair, even though he knew that for once, Octavia was actually right. He'd been thinking about Clarke ever since Friday, and he knew he'd acted like a complete asshole. He totally gone off on her and snapped, and his outburst definitely was not something he was proud of. No matter how pissed he'd been at Lincoln and Octavia, or how annoyed he was at her whole entitled routine, she still hadn't deserved that. No one would have.

"You were a real dick to her last Friday Bellamy."

He sighed, "I know that."

He swallowed and continued, "So, I'm guessing the Princess hasn't had any luck working something out either?"

Guilt flashed across his sister's face, "No, not that I know of. I've barely seen her this week. Between house hunting and the hospital, she's been working herself dry. I really don't know what she's going to do."

Her face turned more serious before she continued, "Look Bell, maybe you just need to suck up your pride and call her. The two of you don't have to live together forever, it's just until she gets back on her feet. I feel so guilty about all of this, about what Lincoln and I are doing to the two of you."

She flashed him her best puppy dog eyes, "Please Bellamy? _Please_ reconsider? Say you'll help her… for me?"

His stomach churned, and he tried his best to stay stoic and resist, but Bellamy knew that there was no way he was getting out of this one. At the end of the day, no matter how angry he'd been at her, Octavia was still his little sister. She was his only family, and he would do anything for her. Even living with Clarke Griffin.

"I guess since it's either her or one of your delinquent friends…."

"Oh my god, Bellamy, thank you!" Octavia screamed.

"Don't get too excited yet O, I seriously doubt that she's going to be thrilled about this, especially after the way we left things."

Octavia nodded, "Yeah, way to go with that one. Well, the first step is going to be an apology."

Bellamy felt his stomach drop, "An apology?"

"Mmhm, usually they go something along the lines of 'I'm sorry I stole your mail' or in your case, 'I'm sorry I'm an asshole'."

He glared at her, "Thanks for the explanation."

Octavia fished her phone out from her pocket and handed it to him.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

She rolled her eyes, "Call her and apologize, then throw in something along the lines of you would be more than happy to have her move in with you."

Bellamy wasn't happy about this. In fact he was absolutely dreading it, but Octavia had a point. Besides, if Clarke was actually as much of a workaholic as O made her sound, maybe Bellamy would even be able to tolerate her… for a while.

"Fine. But minus the happy part."

Octavia shrugged, "It was worth a shot."

Bellamy stared at the phone in his hands. The number was already dialed in so all he had to do was press call. His palms started to sweat, and he mentally kicked himself for being so pathetic. He had no reason to be nervous, absolutely none. He was only calling someone who he was pretty sure completely hated his guts, no reason to be scared about that.

"Oh my god Bellamy, just do it."

He breathed in heavily, and pressed his finger to the call button. Now all he had to do was wait.


	6. Chapter 6 - Running Out of Options

Running Out of Options

"Rise and shine, Griffin!"

Clarke jolted awake from her dreamless sleep and let out a groan. God she hated being on call. She'd spent her entire night in the emergency room, wiping off vomit and checking temperatures, trying to deal with screaming kids, and even worse, their panicked parents. At 4 AM she'd finally stumbled her way to the on call room and collapsed onto the cot, every bone in her body aching from being up on her feet all day and night.

She groaned again, and flailed her arm out – haphazardly searching for her phone on the small table beside her. The brightness of the screen made her eyes burn. 8:05 AM. _4 hours_. How had it already been four hours? She felt like she'd only shut her eyes seconds ago. Her exhaustion had barely subsided, and she could already feel herself slipping back to sleep, her eyelids drooping beyond her control. She was so out of it that she'd completely forgotten about the unwelcome guest, leaning against the wall across from her bed.

Murphy ripped the blanket off of her, and she silently thanked herself for having the brains to sleep in her scrubs.

"Come on Sleeping Beauty, the rectal exams await."

Internally, she punched him. She spent a lot of her mental energy internally punching John Murphy – it was a coping strategy she'd come up with orientation week. It saved her the actual physical exertion of socking him in the face. Sometimes she even got creative with it, trading in her fist for a baseball bat, or a shovel. The shovel was a fun one.

Clarke finally forced herself into a sitting position, stretching her arms out and letting out a monster of a yawn.

"You look like a mess by the way, you really should do something about that hair."

Clarke flashed Murphy a murderous glare, although in her current state she was pretty sure she just looked like she was just squinting.

"Murphy, shut up, or you'll be the one needing a rectal exam."

Murphy let out a dramatic yawn, "Your empty threats bore me. Now get up, you're already making us late for rounds."

Oh god, rounds. "Shit!" In her early morning haze she hadn't even realized they started 20 minutes ago.

"Dammit Murphy, why didn't you wake me up sooner?"

Clarke jumped out of bed, threw her phone in her pocket, grabbed her lab coat and bolted out the door, Murphy trailing behind her. She was struggling to get both sleeves in the armholes while he kept droning on and on.

"_Thank you_ Murphy, for saving my ass. _Thank you_ Murphy, for not letting me sleep until noon. _Thank you_ Murphy... "

It was way too early in the morning for this, "I get it! I get it!"

She needed a coffee, ASAP. They made their way down the hall past the nurses's station. She spied two to go cups of coffee just sitting on the desk, and her heart pined for them. Just as her eyes were staring at them longingly, Murphy's arms cut across her vision, and he swiped them from the desk.

She slapped his arm.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Put those back."

"No can do, Griffin." He said, as he proceeded to take a swig from the cup. "Ah," he sighed, "Still hot."

"Murphy, you can't just go around taking people's coffees."

He stretched the other cup out to her enticingly, "You know you want it."

Clarke's mouth watered. Dammit he was right, she did want it. But even if she was exhausted and could barely keep her eyes open, she did still have some sense of a moral compass. Coffee, of all things, demands respect.

She took the cup from him and backtracked quickly to the desk and put it back before anyone saw her. Then she caught up with Murphy who was shaking his head in disapproval.

"Boo, you're no fun."

"No, I'm just not a criminal."

"Touché, Griffin. Touché. "

They rounded the corner into the surgical wing, passing Kane's empty office. Clarke felt her stomach drop. Even though they were late, a part of her had still been hoping maybe Dr. Kane had gotten a late start to the morning too. By now she should have known better than to engage in wishful thinking.

Murphy continued, "Well, you know what they say about old habits."

Clarke knew Murphy was referring to the time he'd spent in Juvie, back when he was still in highschool. He'd told her the last night of orientation, back in May, when they'd found out that they'd been partnered together as Dr. Kane's residents. The hospital had recently changed their policy, and instead of having one large class of 16 residents, they'd broken them down into groups of 2 – each pair being put under the supervision of one attending. Murphy would definitely have not been her first choice of partner. He was surly, rude, and every other word out of his mouth made her want to strangle him. But she'd sucked it up and took it like a champ, or so she told herself at least.

After the news broke, he took her out to the bar where he'd gotten wasted out of his mind and decided to share his life story. Clarke had stuck with water, and listened to the two hour long saga of John Murphy, the stereotypical bad boy with a chip on his shoulder and a knack for stealing. He'd been orphaned by the age of eleven, and had spent the rest of his teen years jumping from foster home to foster home, struggling to stay off the streets. Eventually he'd landed himself in Juvie, but gotten out after four months. The story got blurry after that point, but from what Clarke could make out, his last foster home had been his best. That family had actually tried to understand him, take care of him, and after a little while he turned his life around. Even though he was a pain in her ass, even Clarke had to admit, it was pretty inspirational. But clearly, some habits were still hard to break.

"You should try harder to break them," she chided.

"Not my style. Anyways, how's the house hunting, roommate search, total living mess extravaganza going?

Clarke groaned, "Don't even ask."

It was Thursday now, and after spending the weekend stewing in self pity and binge-watching Scandal on Netflix, Clarke had come to work on Monday with a plan. She'd posted flyers all over the hospital, in all the staff lounges, advertising for a new roommate. She was pretty sure she'd come off as desperate, but who was she kidding? That's exactly what she was. She'd spent a good hour making them, and another printing them all out, and they'd gotten her exactly nowhere. Zero responses. Apparently she was the only damn person in all of Seattle without a roommate.

So, when that failed, she'd turned her attention elsewhere, and decided to go apartment hunting. She'd spent every waking hour she wasn't working glued to her computer screen, searching for places all over the city. She tried to find ones downtown, close to the hospital at least, but everything was way out of her price range. The only place she'd found that she could actually afford on her own was a tiny one bedroom, a 20-minute bus ride from the hospital. She called in sick yesterday morning and had gone to see it before work. The tiny, she could deal with. The kitchen that doubled as a living room and bedroom, she could deal with. The "minor cockroach problem" on the other hand, that was where she drew the line.

She was getting more and more screwed by the minute. Octavia was moving out tomorrow and the lease was up by Monday. If she didn't come up with something fast not only would she not have a roommate, but she would quite literally be homeless too.

"No luck huh?"

She was about the respond with a curt '_What do you think'_, when her train of thought was stopped by an unmistakable shout in the distance.

"Griffin! Murphy!"

Murphy chucked his coffee in a nearby trashcan, and muttered what sounded like a prayer under his breath.

The two of them stopped in their tracks, and Dr. Kane approached them, clipboard in hand and incredibly pissed expression on his face.

"Tell me", he said, "Are you two blind, or just incompetent?"

"Sir?" Murphy stammered. He wasn't scared of a lot, but apparently even he couldn't help but feel 3 ft tall next to Kane. Clarke felt her own palms start to sweat and anxiety course through her body.

"_Time_ John. Can you tell it? Or do you just choose to ignore it?"

"Apologies, Sir. I was just running late because I had to wake up Sleeping Beauty over here." Clarke felt Murphy pat her on the head, "Poor thing, just overslept."

That little snitch! Clarke opened her mouth to say something, but again, Kane cut her off.

"You know what, never mind. I don't want to hear it, you've already wasted enough of my time this morning." He walked them over to the other nurses' station and grabbed two piles of folders on the desk. He thrust one of each into their arms.

"You", he pointed to Murphy, "Take care of my post-ops." "And you," he said fixing his gaze onto Clarke, "I want all these pre-ops taken care of by lunch. I have surgery at 2, so if the two of you want to scrub in on that, I suggest you make haste."

"At least there's no rectal exams," Murphy whispered under his breath.

Dr. Kane glared at him and turned to walk away before stopping and facing them once more, "A word of advice Dr. Griffin, learn how to set an alarm."

Clarke felt her cheeks redden with embarrassment. Murphy smirked.

"And Dr. Murphy, no one likes a tattle tale. I suggest you find a more productive way of getting my attention."

With that he walked away, leaving Murphy and Clarke alone in the hall. Clarke turned to Murphy who, to her satisfaction, was wearing a look of pure shock on his face. She slammed him in the arm with her file folder.

"Ow! Jesus!"

"That's for selling me out, asshole!"

Murphy smirked and walked away from her backwards, hands raised in defense. "Every man for himself Griffin! See you at lunch!"

She watched him walk away, getting in a good three mental face punches. Those made her feel better. Clarke clutched her folders underneath her arm, and set out for the pre – op wing. She was already worn out, but too bad for her; the day had only just begun.

* * *

She collapsed into her chair at lunch, resting her tray on the cafeteria table across from Murphy who was already halfway through a pizza. Clarke had ordered the same, two slices in fact. She usually opted for a salad, but decided to say screw it, this was her week from hell – she deserved a damn pizza. In fact she'd been saying screw it all week… her ass would not be thanking her for that one.

She grabbed her coffee, and relished in the warm tingle it brought to her tongue. She'd been waiting all morning for this moment, and oh was it worth it. She chugged it until it was halfway done, letting out a satisfied "Ahh".

"You know, you wouldn't be feeling so dead right now if you'd just taken the coffee I gave you this morning."

Clarke glared, "You can keep your contraband coffee to yourself thank you very much."

"Don't say I didn't offer. So, we didn't finish our talk earlier. You homeless yet?"

She sighed. "No not yet, but I might as well be. Why is it so hard to find a place in this city?"

"Real estate markets, the economy, the inevitable extinction of all our first world comforts", Murphy answered.

She lowered her brows and stared at him, "That was a rhetorical question, you know what never mind." Clarke didn't even know why she tried with him.

Murphy took a sip of his water and stretched his legs out, "Well, looks like you're screwed."

"Gee, you sound so sympathetic, thanks", she said with mock sincerity.

He was right though. She was absolutely screwed. She was supposed to go see another place this afternoon, but had cancelled so she could scrub in with Dr. Kane. If there was anything she'd learnt these past 4 months was that any missed opportunity, was a wasted one – something she could not afford, not if she wanted to keep her job.

She sighed and went to take another sip of her coffee.

"You know you could always move in with me."

Clarke choked. She pushed her chair back and keeled over, coughing uncontrollably. She knew she was getting stares, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She kept coughing, until she could finally breathe in air normally, gulping it in with wheezing gasps.

Murphy just continued to sit there, staring at her unimpressed. "What are you, four years old? Can't you drink without almost dying?"

Clarke shook her head. She had to have imagined that. There's no way Murphy had just offered to let her live with him. "I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

"Well, I just insulted you. It's ok, you're slow today, and you might have missed it. Here let me repeat it for you…"

She rolled her eyes, "Murphy! Shut up! The other thing jackass."

"Now, now, is that really how you want to speak to someone who just offered to save you from a life of destitution on the streets?"

So she had heard correctly.

"You have got to be kidding me."

Murphy shrugged, "What? Would you rather be homeless or live in the on call room?"

"Yes!" Clarke cried. She really would rather live in the on call room. Murphy may be her closest acquaintance at work, but that was only because they spent every breathing moment in the hospital together. She tolerated him, just so she wouldn't go insane, but imagining living with him, seeing him outside of work, every single day - the thought made her cringe. She'd rather stick with the roaches.

Murphy sneered and continued with sarcastic enthusiasm, "We could braid each other's hair, make cookies, paint our nails!"

He trailed on and on while Clarke put her head in her hands in exasperation. Thankfully, by some miracle her phone started ringing, Octavia was calling her and giving her an excuse to get the hell out of that conversation.

"And watch Frozen, and Gossip Girl…"

"Leaving now", Clarke snapped as she left the table.

She walked to the quiet corner of the cafeteria and answered the call.

"Hey O, what's up?"

She heard a deep cough on the other side of the line, and a voice that was definitely not Octavia's.

"It's uhh, it's Bellamy actually."

Clarke thought back to her last conversation with the older Blake, and her annoyance at Murphy was immediately channeled onto him.

"What do you want Bellamy?" She snapped, "I'm at work, I'm busy."

There was a pause. "If you're so busy then why are you picking up your phone? Aren't you supposed to be saving lives?"

He was absolutely insufferable. "Well, I assumed, that since Octavia knows I'm at work, she would only be calling in the case of an emergency! Silly me, what a futile assumption to make."

She heard him chuckle, "Alright, take it easy."

Clarke sighed, "Again, I repeat, is there something you want Bellamy? Is O ok?"

His voice returned to his original seriousness, "Yeah, O's fine. Look, I'm calling to… I'm calling to apologize."

Well this was unexpected. "Apologize?" Clarke asked skeptically.

"That's what I said. I may have been a bit out of line on Friday."

Clarke scoffed, "A bit?"

"Are you done? Can I continue, or are you planning on interrupting me after every sentence?"

"Fine, go on."

"Look, I was out of line. A lot. I shouldn't have said all those things… let's just call it the heat of the moment?"

Clarke stayed silent.

"Hello?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, do I have permission to speak now?"

Clarke could hear Bellamy grumble under his breath, and she thought she could make out Octavia's voice in the background. She felt a sense of satisfaction knowing she threw him off.

"Bellamy, it's fine. It was an emotional night, I've already forgotten about it." She hadn't, but he didn't need to know that. She had enough on her plate right now; she didn't need any more problems.

"Ok."

She looked over at Murphy, who was eyeing her coffee with malicious intent. Clarke swore if he even dared to take a sip… they were going to have problems.

"Ok. Well, I wasn't lying before. I really am busy, so is that all?"

She could hear Octavia egging him on in the background. "No actually." He sighed before continuing, almost like the words were physically painful for him to say.

"Look, Octavia told me you haven't found a place yet, or a roommate. Suffice it to say, I haven't had any luck either."

"So?"

"So what I'm trying to say is, is that maybe I was being to rash before. You need a place to stay, and I need a roommate. The offer's open… that is if you still need to take it?"

Clarke looked over at Murphy who not only had taken her coffee for himself, but also, was already making his way into her second slice of pizza. She weighed her options. At this point she could either be homeless, live in the on call room, or shack up with Murphy. Bellamy Blake was just about the last person whose help she wanted to admit she needed, but at this point, he was looking like her only choice. She was sure there were other apartments she could find in Seattle, but the thing was, at this point she just didn't have time to look for them. His place didn't have roaches, was clean from what she saw, and at least she would still be 5 minutes from work. Her anger at him had faded, and she was forced to realize that at the end of the day, maybe this was her best bet?

"If I say yes… it's only because I'm desperate."

"Of course."

"And have no other options", she continued.

"Ok."

"And it's only temporary…?"

She heard him sigh, "Unless you want to be stuck with me forever, then yes Princess, it's only temporary."

She breathed in heavily. Oh god, she could not believe she was doing this.

"So… is that a yes?"

Something told her she was going to regret this.

"Yes."

* * *

**A/N : **And here's chapters 5 and 6! I kind of went on a writing spree these past couple of days, so I figured I might as well post them at the same time, give you guys a little treat for being so great :) This chapter was definitely my absolute favourite to write so far, mostly because Murphy. Ever since he and Jaha went on the "Broses" quest, I have been such a fan of Murphy - he's seriously one of my favourites and ok I'll stop gushing about how much I love Murphy.

I hope you guys enjoyed these updates! The main setting up of the story is finally done, and next chapter should be a goodie (it's called "Move In Day" if that gives you any hint about what's going to go down). I'm so excited to finally get to the Bellamy/Clarke living together stuff oh man.

Anyways, thanks to everyone for keeping up with this story so far! I did want to ask you guys though, what your thoughts are on the whole POV situation. I initially meant for this to be a story all in Clarke's POV, but as you can tell, I've clearly been switching back and forth quite a lot. What do you guys think? I know I've been a little inconsistent with the POVs thus far so I'd love to know whether you think I should keep it strictly to Clarke, or do you like the shots from Bellamy's mind in there too? If you have the time, let me know :)


	7. Chapter 7 - Move In Day

**A/N : **Hey guys... remember me?

Before I get started with this chapter let me just say that I am so **SO** sorry for the ridiculously long time it took me to update this story :( I mean we're talking 3 months worth of ridiculous, and to everyone who's been following along with this since March I really do feel awful for abandoning this for so long. I never meant to take this long to finally get this chapter published and I could make a list of excuses for why, but at the end of the day it really just comes down to the fact that my life got unexpectedly busy with finals, papers and mainly my new job. But in addition to that I also found myself in a big creative slump. I just could never get myself in the proper mindset to write, and anytime I tried to get this chapter down it never seemed to flow naturally and I was never happy with the way it turned out. But these past couple weeks I found myself getting back into the swing of things, and I definitely credit some of the Dramione fan fiction I read (slash became obsessed with) this week with finally rekindling my excitement towards writing and getting creative again. I know those aren't the greatest reasons, but that's what happened - and I promise I have no plans to let it happen again! But that's enough of my ramblings... on to the update! I hope it's at least worth the wait.

* * *

Move In Day

"Arghhh, done!" Clarke heaved a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from her brow as she finally managed to zip her uncooperative suitcase closed. The old thing had been with her ever since she moved out to college and it was filled to the absolute brim. She hadn't realized how much crap she had until she'd been forced to pack it all up within the span of two days and that wasn't even counting all the random things she'd thrown into a storage unit years ago when they first moved out to Seattle.

Octavia, who was sitting a top the luggage helping Clarke get it shut, wiped off her own brow mockingly, "Damn that really wore me out. Hey! Here's a thought! You know what we deserve… margaritas!"

Clarke stared up at her friend with an annoyed expression on her face. "Yeah, sitting on your ass while I wrestled with a 50 pound death bag, I can't even _begin_ to imagine how tuckered out you are," Clarke retorted sarcastically. However she quickly got her revenge by shoving Octavia off the bag and to the floor, her friend landing with a soft thud.

Octavia composed herself and feigned insult before leaning against one of the many piles of boxes scattered around the remains of their living room. The brunette crossed her arms and grinned at Clarke, "Well isn't someone sour today?"

Clarke sighed and leaned her head back on a box of her own, "Can you blame me?"

Octavia's teasing grin disappeared, morphing into a sad smile, "No, I really can't. But hey, you know what's the best way to ease the pain?"

Clarke couldn't suppress a smile, "Let me guess… margaritas?"

Octavia clapped her hands together, "Now that's the spirit Griffin! Come on, get that ass up off the floor. This is the last time we'll ever be in this apartment together and we are definitely not spending our final moments being sweaty pathetic messes - you and I are toasting."

_Correction_, Clarke thought to herself. There was only one sweaty pathetic mess among them and that was she. Her old Modest Mouse t-shirt clung to her damp lower back and she didn't even need to look at a mirror to know her hair was an unruly wreck. Octavia on the other hand had done all her heavy lifting yesterday, with the help of Lincoln of course, so today she'd gotten a free pass and practically looked photo shoot ready… even in sweats.

Octavia had moved out all her things, or at least the majority of them, yesterday and had spent the night at her and Lincoln's new place. Even though Clarke would never admit how much it'd upset her, spending her last night in their deserted apartment all alone had nearly brought her to tears. Clarke Griffin took pride in her independence - she'd been living life on her own terms, free from being stuck under her family's thumb since she was 20. But somewhere along the way it seemed that even though Clarke no longer relied on blood family, she'd come to depend on someone else in a completely different way.

She knew she was being ridiculous and overdramatic and she'd scolded herself for it - it wasn't like she and O weren't going to see each other anymore. Octavia's new place was only a 5 minute walk from Bellamy's, but even so… Clarke couldn't shake the feeling that some significant part of her life was ending. She'd lived with her best friend every single day for the past 9 years, and even though she'd been thrown more than her fair share of curve balls during that time, now the change felt different. For the longest time her and O had always been moving through life together, but this time it felt like while her best friend was taking a big step forward - Clarke was tripping over her life, trying to keep up when in reality she was just falling two steps behind.

She hadn't even realized how emotional she was getting until she felt a hot stinging in her eye and she quickly blinked back the tears. She stood up from the floor and tried to put a smile in her voice, "Yes well good luck trying to find the blender in this chaos." But even she could hear the insincerity of her words as she choked them out through the lump forming in her throat.

Octavia sensed something was wrong; of course she did, and took a step closer - wrapping Clarke up in a bear hug.

"I'm so sorry Clarke," she whispered and Clarke could feel the wetness of her friend's tears on her neck. She was so overcome with emotion and stress that she didn't even hear the door to their apartment open as a shadow walked in and lingered in the hall.

"Octavia you have nothing to be sorry for ok? We went through this yesterday, I don't blame any of this on you." Clarke tried to muster up a laugh, "Besides we knew we had to split up at some point."

Octavia squeezed her tighter, "I don't know what I ever did to deserve a friend like you Clarke Griffin. I love you, you know that?"

Clarke almost couldn't get the words out, "I love you too O." Clarke held onto her best friend, the sister she never had, for a moment longer before unwrapping her arms and swiping away at the tears on her own face.

Octavia smiled doing the same, "This doesn't change anything between us. I still expect you to judge all my bad life decisions and keep my head screwed on straight. And don't even think I'm going to quit coming around and stopping you from working yourself to death."

Clarke let out a laugh her chest feeling lighter than it had just minutes ago, "Something tells me I don't think I'll ever have to worry about you running out of bad life decisions for me to judge."

"I do it all for you for entertainment, now come on that's enough mushy crap."

Clarke was about to respond in agreement when an all too familiar voice beat her to it.

"No please, more of the mushy stuff", Octavia yelped and clutched her chest when she heard Murphy's voice and form emerge from the entryway. "In fact why don't you just go back to hugging each other again?"

"What the _fuck_!", Octavia screeched.

Clarke reached down to the floor and grabbed the closest thing to her, which to her disdain happened to only be a lone balled up pair of socks. She threw them at Murphy who dodged out of the way, clicking his tongue as he stepped further into their living room. "Now now Griffin, is that anyway to greet your guests?"

Clarke placed her hands on her hips and seethed, "Guests that don't knock, come in uninvited, and lurk in the shadows? You're right that's no way to treat them – I should have thrown a baseball instead!"

"Such a violent soul you have Griffin, you know you really might want to talk to someone about that."

Clarke opened her mouth to get out another retort, but Octavia beat her two it. Waving her arms between the two of them she said, "I'm sorry, but someone needs to stop bickering and start explaining."

Clarke sighed, of course O was confused, and she clearly had no idea that the pest standing in their home was John Murphy. Clarke had practically complained about her work partner slash menace nonstop since May. It was kind of hard not to talk about someone who was the source of your daily torment, but the two of them had never actually met or been properly introduced. Clarke preferred to keep Murphy far far away from her normal non-work related life.

"Yes Clarke, where are your manners? Introduce us already." Murphy quipped. Clarke glared at him, but he was too busy ogling at Octavia to notice. She huffed and walked over to the two of them and plastered a fake smile on her face.

"Octavia", she said sweetly, "this… is _Satan_." Murphy rolled his eyes in her direction as she turned to face him. "Satan," Clarke said not so sweetly, "This is Octavia."

Murphy, who was clearly remained undeterred despite Clarke's less than kind introduction bowed his head and tipped a nonexistent hat off with dramatic flair. "_Enchantee mademoiselle_," he purred as he leaned down even further and grabbed Octavia's hand, kissing the back of it. Now it was Clarke's turn to roll her eyes.

Octavia pulled her hand back, "Excuse you?"

"The name's Murphy. Jo - "

"Ah", she said interrupting him, nodding and looking over at Clarke, "Now it makes sense."

Clarke smirked while Murphy pressed on, "John Murphy to be exact. Most people call me Murphy, but you… _you_ can call me John," he drawled out flirtatiously. Clarke face palmed, unable to watch the train wreck before her.

"I think I'll stick to Satan," Octavia said coolly. Clarke snorted and looked up at Murphy whose expression had now shifted from jest to embarrassment.

He brushed it off and focused his attention back on Clarke, looking her up and down with a grimace. "Good God Griffin you look like a mess."

Clarke looked down at her ratty t-shirt and gym shorts. Of course she was a mess, she'd been stuffing things in boxes since 6AM.

"Thank you Murphy," she grumbled, "for stating the obvious. What are you doing here anyways? I thought we said we were meeting at 12?"

"Why?" Octavia asked.

"Murphy has a van for reasons I don't even want to know, so he offered to help me lug all this stuff over to Bellamy's." Clarke narrowed her eyes at her colleague accusingly, "And by offered I mean I'm paying him 20 bucks for his _generosity_"

Murphy raised his hands in defense, "You want my services, then you pay your dues Griffin – that's how it works in this economy." He turned to face Octavia and waggled his brows, continuing more suggestively than before, "Of course if someonewere interested in my _goods_ on the other hand… now maybe then I'd consider accepting more _creative_ forms of payment."

Clarke groaned and Octavia's mouth had fallen open in shock, but she quickly composed herself and went over to the counter to grab her cell phone and purse. "Well I think now's as good a time to get the hell out of here as any", O said while stretching an arm out to Clarke for one more hug. "Call me as soon as you're all settled in your new place."

Clarke made a point of correcting her, "Bellamy's place."

Octavia grimaced, "Yes well try not to think about that part too much."

Clarke knew she was being a bit petty – it had been uncharacteristically kind of the older, grouchier Blake to let her move in, even if it was only temporary. "I really am grateful O, even if it is your brother. I seriously don't know what I would have done if you hadn't convinced him to convince me, so thanks, really." The sentence came out much more complicated than she'd expected, but to be fair, the entire situation was more complicated than she'd ever wanted it to be.

"Of course you know what you would have done Griff," Murphy chimed, "You'd have shacked up with me." Both girls turned to stare at him and Octavia's face was a mask of horror and she started to back away and exit into the entrance – "Oh yeah, I can see just how much you owe me – but I say we call it even for now."

Clarke laughed, "Deal. Bye O."

"Bye Clarke, she opened the door and called out dramatically, "Bye Satan!"

Murphy blew her a kiss, but as soon as she was out of sight his face turned into a grimace and he muttered incomprehensibly under his breath.

"Sorry, didn't catch that."

Clarke heard him let out a groan. "You ruined my first impression! Dammit Griffin."

At that Clarke snorted, "Ah Murphy, I think you did that all by yourself."

He glared at her for a moment before feigning boredom with an overdone yawn. "Whatever, I'm over it. So what about you? Are you planning on leaving this apartment today? And more importantly, are you planning on leaving it dressed like that?"

She raised her brow, "What are you talking about Murphy? We said we were leaving at 12."

"_Time _Griffin. Can you tell it, or do you just choose to ignore it?" Murphy said, narrowing his brows and lowering his voice to mimic Dr. Kane's.

She shook her head in confusion and walked over to the counter where she'd thrown her phone down hours earlier. "Crap!" The glowing display told her it was in fact after 12, and she was once again uncharacteristically late. She didn't know how she let this happen… until she remembered the hour her and O had spent crying of laughter at their old circa 2008 polaroids. Damn nostalgia.

"I believe what you meant to say was_ I'm sorry_ Murphy for snapping at you, or perhaps _Thank you _Murphy for still being willing to lug my sorry ass across downtown Seattle on a Saturday."

Clarke shot him a quick murderous glare as she ran around her apartment in a panic. She ran into her bedroom, which was empty spare for her laptop, charger, and her open day planner that was open to her note "Move in - 12:30! - the irony of which was not lost on her. _Shit _she thought to herself. Clarke had fully been meaning to jump in the shower before leaving, but there was clearly no time for that now. She stole a quick glance at her reflection in the full length wall mirror and resigned herself to the fact that she looked like she just rolled out of bed

"Griffin!" she heard Murphy call from the living room. She sighed before shoving her laptop into her backpack along with the rest of her things and taking one final sweeping look over the room. She strode into the living room where Murphy was leaning against the far wall.

"Sorry, didn't mean to make you come running. By the way I've decided to charge you overtime for our little delay so feel free to take your time - just holler when my chauffeur services are needed", he said with a smug smirk plastered onto his face that Clarke was seriously tempted to slap right off.

"Murphy", she approached him slowly, biting back the urge to give him a piece of her mind.

"Yes ma'am?" he asked through a toothy grin.

Clarke clenched her jaw before continuing - "Murphy, would you please be so kind as to help me carry these boxes down to the van?"

Murphy clapped his hands together. "Now that's more like it! Your wish is my command", he said giving her a bow while Clarke rolled her eyes heavenward.

Though it took them a good twenty minutes and several choice curse words to accomplish the task, eventually her place was completely cleared of anything to indicate that Clarke and Octavia had ever even lived there in the first place. She set her keys down on the counter and took in the emptiness one last time. She felt Murphy's presence creep up behind her and for once he seemed to be capable of holding his tongue. He awkwardly nudged her shoulder with his own - "Do you uhh.. I don't know, do you want me to give you a minute?"

Clarke shook her head, "No. I'm ready. Let's go.

She saw Murphy nod as he turned to head back out into the hall. A second later she followed, finally leaving her old place behind and heading for her new one.

* * *

Bellamy told himself to stop checking the time, but apparently he just couldn't seem to help himself. He glanced down at his watch for probably the fiftieth time that day and frowned in annoyance. 1:30. Clarke Griffin, his new _roommate…_ he still had trouble stomaching the thought, was over an hour late and Bellamy was significantly miffed.

To be fair it wasn't like he had any place to be. He'd been planning on letting Clarke into the apartment, showing her the basics, and retiring to the couch where he'd spent the rest of the day camped out marking freshmen history papers - a task he'd been dreading ever since last week's quiz results, but Clarke didn't know this. For all the Princess knew Bellamy could have had places to go, and things to do and yet she'd decided to inconvenience him anyway.

But… on the other hand Bellamy had to admit, Clarke Griffin was one of the last people on earth he'd expect tardiness from. The two hadn't interacted extensively over the years, but he'd had one too many doses of her Type A personality to know that being late probably wasn't in her repertoire.

He'd even spent a particularly boring 10 minutes (sometime between grumbling impatiently at 12:30 and huffing in exasperation when his watch hit 1:00) debating whether or not he should pick up the phone and call her. It seemed like the logical thing to do, for all he knew maybe she'd gotten into an accident or something was wrong with the apartment. And yet if that were the case Bellamy expected that she'd be the one calling him to let him know what her situation was. For ten whole minutes he became the kind of person he used to laugh at in high school and college, "should I call her, should I not?" It was completely ridiculous; this entire situation was fucking ridiculous. By the end of it he'd finally resolved himself to just pick up the phone and find out where the hell she was, when he realized he'd overlooked one important detail.

He didn't even have her number.

_Idiot_, he'd muttered to himself.

And now here he was, sitting at his kitchen table rereading the introduction of Amber O'Donnell's essay on Columbus for the fifth time. Bellamy was too exasperated, and even though he would never admit it, too nervous to even focus on the words on the page. He was just about to narrow his eyes and read over the sentence he'd just started once again when he heard an obnoxiously loud pounding on his door followed by a yelp and an angry female voice.

Bellamy strode over quickly and opened the door and had to say the scene he found took him aback. Clarke Griffin was standing in the hallway of his building with a scrawny brown haired guy who was rubbing his arm and wincing. If Bellamy's deduction skills were correct he'd guess someone had just been on the receiving end of a punch, but neither the puncher nor the punchee were paying him any attention.

"What the hell was that for!" the guy next to Clarke screeched.

Bellamy turned his gaze from the stranger to Clarke who had her hands on her hips and a pissed off expression splayed across her face.

"I told you to _knock_! Not bang his door down!"

This "Murphy" threw his hands skyward, "First you get mad at me when I don't knock, then you assault me when I do! Jesus woman I swear to God -"

Bellamy coughed to alert the two of them of his presence and to finally get them to shut up before his neighbors started filing disturbance reports against him. Clarke whipped her head around and clutched her chest, "Bellamy! Sorry I didn't even notice you were there."

_Clearly, _he thought to himself.

"Maybe that's because he didn't knock", the guy Clarke had called Murphy muttered underneath his breath. She shot him a warning glare and Bellamy decided to intervene before he was witness to a full on brawl.

"Clarke." he tilted his head in her direction, "Maybe you'd consider bringing the shouting match inside?" he said stepping to the side to gesture them in, but before she could even step forward her path was blocked by the stranger who gripped Bellamy's hand.

"Nice to meet you... Bellamy was it? Names Murphy. Sorry about Griffin over there - she's extra violent today." He leaned in closer and leaned up to whisper loudly in Bellamy's hear, "I'd blame it on hormones, but I wouldn't want to end up with a concussion."

He raised a brow and peered over Murphy's shoulder to sneak a glance at Clarke whose face had gone even redder than before, and if a facial expression could scream _murder_ Bellamy was willing to bet hers was it. And after a comment like that Bellamy couldn't exactly blame her. He'd learnt enough from living with Octavia for 18 years to know that the word hormones was kept in a magic box - a box that unless you wanted to make it out of the conversation alive, was never to be opened under any circumstances.

Bellamy squeezed his hand back harder than necessary, leading Murphy to untangle himself from his grip and flex his hand muscles behind his back. Bellamy turned his attention back to Clarke who finally was able to step in through the doorway. He took a second to take her in - her hair was in complete disarray - pieces coming out of a braid from just about every side. Her attire on the other hand looked more like pajamas than actual clothing, and he just barely glimpsed over her t-shirt before bringing his eyes back up to her flushed face. Definitely not what he was expecting from the girl he'd only ever known as put together.

"You're late." Bellamy had meant to ask it as a question, but just like with most things he seemed to say - it came out wrong, sounding aggressive and accusatory. Clarke returned to a defensive stance, clearly taken aback by his tone.

She was interrupted again before she had the chance to start, "Ah yes, we had some issues remembering how to tell time this morning didn't we Clarke?"

Clarke tore her gaze from him and turned to face her companion instead. "Murphy," she said in a voice so low and calm that it almost sent a chill up Bellamy's spine, "Shut up."

And the simple command seemed to work as Murphy shrugged and retreated further into Bellamy's apartment while Clarke refocused her attention on him.

"Yes I was late - I got carried away and overwhelmed with packing. It's not exactly easy stuffing everything you own into boxes in one day ok?"

Bellamy had to say he'd been expecting a more… dramatic reason, but he just twisted his mouth in acceptance.

"You two just going to stand in the doorway all day or?"

Bellamy couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes and a part of him was even almost amused to see the Princess do the same. She didn't wait for him to gesture her into the apartment and this time just walked right in and stood across from Murphy who was leaning against what usually functioned as Bellamy's kitchen table, but was currently covered in papers, folders, and an assortment of red pens.

Murphy walked over to stand next to her before turning and facing Bellamy while gesturing at the papers, "So you some kind of a lawyer or something?"

"Teacher, actually", Bellamy replied cooly.

"Damn, my condolences man."

Who the hell was this kid?

"Condolences?" Bellamy asked crossing his arms together.

"You know, dealing with kids all the day, must be rough - I couldn't handle it. Hell at least at the hospital when one of them screams at me I have a promising shot at getting to jab a needle in them later. In a non violent way of course"

Bellamy knit his brows together and shot Clarke an '_is he for rea_l' look, but she didn't catch it as she was too busy rubbing her temples and groaning.

"What? What'd I say?"

If this kid talked for another minute Bellamy swore he was going to get a migraine.

"You said you had boxes?" he asked Clarke - completely ignoring Murphy who Bellamy was rapidly hoping wasn't going to be a frequent fixture in his house.

"Yes," she said with a look of relief on her face, "They're in Murphy's van - so I guess we'll just bring them up… here?" She crinkled her head in concentration as she looked around the apartment. He hadn't even realized that Clarke's knowledge of his space didn't extend farther than the living room and kitchen from the few brief times she'd been over with Octavia.

"Your room's down the hall that way," he said pointing awkwardly towards one of the far ends of the apartment. Shit, he didn't know how he was supposed to go about this and he hated how stiff he sounded. "I can show you around first if you want?"

To his relief the scowl she'd been wearing since she'd stepped in disappeared into a small smile and he felt comfort in knowing that this must be just as awkward and uncomfortable for her as it was for him.

"That'd be great - thanks. Murphy do you mind bringing -"

"Oh no Griffin - I never said anything about helping you move in. You paid me to drive you and get you out. My duties - as clearly outlined in our verbal contract, are complete. Speaking of payment I'll be taking that right about now if you'd be so kind."

And there it was. Bellamy had been wondering when this moment would come. So the Princess had paid someone to be her personal moving guy for the day, Bellamy wished he could say he was surprised, but he wasn't - not even a little bit. He smirked to himself and felt a little bit smug to know he'd been right. It looked like Clarke Griffin wasn't as different from her past self as she'd claimed to be a few nights ago.

"Fine," she huffed, reaching into her bag for a wallet and stuffing a twenty into Murphy's hand.

"Overtime, remember?"

She swore under her breath and pulled out another bill and put it in his outstretched hand.

"Pleasure doing business with you Griffin. I'll be back in half an hour to pick up my van."

With that he finally made his way out of the apartment and Bellamy inwardly rejoiced when he heard the door slam behind him.

"Well isn't he just a treat?"

Clarke let out another grown, "You don't even know the half of it." And in that moment Bellamy hoped he'd never have to find out. Clarke shifted awkwardly as a silence fell between them, which Bellamy quickly felt compelled to break.

"So Princess, couldn't find any one more pleasant to bribe into being your friend, or should I say _chauffeur _for the day?"

"First of all," she started pointedly, "Murphy is not what I'd call a friend. Parasite is more like it."

Bellamy couldn't argue with that one.

"And _secondly _\- generosity isn't part of his vocabulary. So yes I paid him, but only because there's no way he'd give me his van without some sort of… compensation."

"Anyways", she said after taking a breath, "His van is just parked outside… so I guess you and I can just go unload it?"

Bellamy didn't know what possessed him to say them, but he regretted his next words the moment they left his mouth.

"What, you aren't going to pay me?"

With that, Clarke's previously worn and tired expression reverted back to the stone cold contempt he saw before when she was talking to Murphy. Now that he was on the receiving end of that glare Bellamy was significant less amused by it, and he felt his stomach begin to churn uncomfortably.

"Screw. You." she said through tight lips. "You know what, I don't need your help - I can do it myself." Without waiting a second longer she turned on her heel and left the apartment, not bothering to spare Bellamy another glance. Bellamy sighed and cursed himself. _Great_ he thought to himself - now not only did he have to live with Clarke Griffin, but a pissed Clarke Griffin at that. Bellamy returned to his chair by the table and resumed reading Amber's essay. He was unsurprised to find that he had just as much trouble getting through it now as he had before, but still - he made a show of busying himself as he waited for Clarke to return.

* * *

Three trips up and down and three boxes later, Bellamy couldn't figure out how the girl was still standing. Each time Clarke came back up her face grew more and more flushed, and Bellamy thought for sure she was about to pass out. After a particularly long break between boxes he grumbled to himself and got up off the chair.

He was annoyed at the guilt he was feeling… mostly because he knew it was completely warranted. He knew that it had been a lot to hope for a peaceful co existence with his sister's difficult best friend, but he'd at least been aiming at an animosity free welcome. He thought about how O would react when Clarke told her what an ass he'd been to her within her first 10 minutes spent with him and cringed internally. She'd bite his head off for sure.

Bellamy made his way down the three flights of stairs outside and scanned the street, quickly spotting a typical white van that he assumed was Murphy's. The back doors were open and as he stepped closer Bellamy could make out at least two more piles of boxes along with the blonde girl cursing like a sailor as she tried to get the top one down.

What he really wanted to say was something along the lines of "How much crap does one person need?" but decided against it, trying his hand at biting his tongue this time around. Instead he stepped into the van and reached out to grab the box above her squirming and jumping figure. He picked it up strenuously - taken aback by its weight. He allowed himself a second to be impressed by the fact that she'd manage to lug three of these up herself, but that second quickly ended before he was again on the receiving end of Clarke Griffin's pointed stare.

"Oh. It's you," she said turning away from him, focusing instead on the pile of boxes in front of her.

_So she's going to the passive aggressive route_, Bellamy thought. He couldn't tell whether that or violence was better. Clarke was struggling to bring the next highest box down and he was sure it'd only take seconds until it toppled down onto her. He reached his arm out, aiming for the box, but Clarke slapped it away. "Don't bother Bellamy, I wouldn't want you to think I'm abusing your services… especially without payment", she spit the last word out with menace.

Bellamy grimaced internally, but kept his face stoic on the outside. She was back to stretching her arms out again and Bellamy did the one thing he figured would grab her attention, considering his presence wasn't exactly doing the trick. He placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. At that Clarke stiffened and turned to face him, peering down at his hand on her t-shirt like it was a foreign object. Bellamy pulled it away awkwardly and put it into the pocket of his jeans.

"Look Clarke, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I... was being an ass."

"You think?" She quipped.

Bellamy sighed, "Are you going to accept my apology and let me help you with these or am I going to have to deal with carting you off to emergency for a broken back?"

"Depends", she said narrowing her eyes at him. "Are you done being an ass?"

Bellamy couldn't help but smirk, "For today." And to his surprise instead of a pointed glare, Clarke simply raised her brows and the corner or her mouth almost lifted. Almost.

"Fine. You know what to do", she said grabbing a suitcase instead of a box and leaving Bellamy behind in the van to watch her leave.

With his help, they were done the rest of her stuff in less than ten minutes – and Bellamy's living room had transformed into a glorified storage unit. He grunted as he set down the final box and wiped the sweat off his brow.

"Are you sure you own enough stuff?" he asked sarcastically to Clarke who'd collapsed onto the floor and was leaning against the wall, fanning herself with one of his empty folders.

Even she looked appalled and embarrassed by the scene as she took in the mess around her. She tilted her head up to look at him, "Well then, I guess I probably shouldn't tell you I have even more stuff locked up in a storage unit?"

His eyes widened in disbelief. Bellamy had never been able to understand a woman's ability to accumulate the most meaningless crap. He'd practically had to physically force Octavia to get rid of her old worn out clothes when she left for college. Her definition of sentimentality was his definition of stupid, but like with most of his arguments with O… he'd lost.

"Relax," he heard Clarke's voice say, bringing him out of his thoughts. "I'm not planning on bringing any of that stuff here. To be honest I might even transfer some of these over there too."

_Why? _Bellamy found himself thinking, and clearly the question must have etched itself on his face because Clarke answered it without him even saying a word. "Well some of this stuff would just be useless here - at least the more permanent fixtures. I mean after all this is just -"

"Temporary", Bellamy finished for her.

Clarke nodded before leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes. Bellamy stood there for a moment feeling awkward and unsure about what to do now. Seeing her close her eyes made him realize just how exhausted he was too. He told himself it was definitely from lugging boxes up three flights up stairs, yeah that was it. It definitely wasn't the fact that he'd barely gotten 3 hours sleep from tossing and turning all night, nope that clearly wasn't the case.

Damn he wanted a beer.

He walked over to the kitchen and pulled two beers out of the fridge, one for him and one for Clarke. He didn't know if the Princess was a beer drinker, but he figured he might as well be polite before giving her a chance to call him an ass… again.

"What's this?" Clarke asked as he leaned down to hold out the beer in front of her.

"Call it a peace offering", he said, flashing her a lop sided grin.

Clarke looked at the bottle dubiously before taking it from his hand, standing up in the process. Even though they were both standing now Bellamy still had to look down at her. He was slightly taken aback by her size, he'd never really given much thought to Clarke's height before. He never really had time to, not with her either scowling at him or throwing angry remarks his way. But now in the silence he couldn't help but realize that the girl was a full head shorter than him, and yet somehow that fact didn't make her any less terrifying.

"Offer accepted", she said in a calculating tone, and Bellamy couldn't tell if this time he was the one getting mocked.

He took a step away and rubbed the back of his head, "So I'm guessing you want that tour now?"

"Now's as good a time as any."

"Right well, this is, or at least it's supposed to be the living room, but you knew that already."

"Now over here," he continued while gesturing towards the kitchen.

"Let me guess," Clarke said. "The kitchen?"

Bellamy narrowed his eyes, "I'm sorry, do you want to give the tour?"

Clarke shook her head, failing to suppress her grin even as she took another sip of her beer. Now Bellamy was positive he was being mocked.

He took her round the entryway of the apartment. The kitchen and living room filled up the main open space of the apartment, and from them the hall narrowed on either side. The right hall led to Bellamy's room and washroom, plus a supply closet complete with a vacuum, iron and all the other usual necessities. To be honest Bellamy pretty much just used it to store his gym equipment, but somehow he figured Clarke probably wouldn't be appreciative of that particular use for the space.

"Down that way," he said leading her to the left hall "Is your room." Clarke followed close behind him tilting her head up and down to take in everything. Bellamy stopped before the door and opened it, letting her step into the room before him. It was pretty much empty spare for the bare bed, a couple chests of drawers, desk, and a night table. Lincoln had decided to leave most of his furniture here, saying Clarke could treat it as a homecoming gift. He thought of it as his apology for basically being the reason they both got into this mess. Clarke got drawers, and Bellamy on the other hand, got to keep the flat screen. Not a bad deal if he said so himself.

"It's uhhh nice," Clarke said with a hint of surprise in her voice as she walked over to look out the window. "Kind of sparse," she said turning back to face him, "but nice."

"I'm sure you have more than enough cra- stuff! Stuff, to fill it."

Clarke didn't seem to notice his slip up because she walked over to the closet and inspected it. _Typical, _Bellamy thought to himself.

"The washroom's over here by the way," he said hoping to pry her away from the closet mainly because he was worried she'd start complaining over storage space for all her clothes. From living with Octavia, Bellamy knew there were few things some girls loved more than closet space.

Clarke walked over to where he was pointing and took a quick look around. "Looks functional", she stated practically. "Is that everything?"

"Uhh yeah, that's the place."

He saw her nod slowly as if trying to figure out what else to say. Bellamy knew how she was feeling; the two had never exactly been alone together without Octavia. Save for that one time back in her freshman year, but Bellamy didn't like to think about that.

"Thanks again Bellamy", she said pulling him out of his thoughts once again. "I really was in a bind."

Her thanking him made him uncomfortable. She was doing him just as much of a favour as he was doing her. In reality this whole fucked up situation kind of balanced itself out.

"It's fine", he replied looking down at the ground then adding nonchalantly, "I mean it's no problem… you kind of turned out to be my best option anyways."

Clarke leveled her gaze at him seriously; "I hope you know I'm going to take that as a compliment."

Before he could stop himself he let out a low laugh, mostly because he'd never seen someone accept lighthearted praise so sternly. "Whatever you say Clarke." He stepped out of the room, figuring he should give her some privacy to unpack. "Whatever you say."

Bellamy walked back over to his spot by the table and bowed down over his work. In the background he heard various noises: Clarke shuffling the boxes down into her room, tape ripping open and zippers being undone. While some part of him remained annoyed at this new disturbance in his life, he couldn't help but think that this may not be the worst thing to happen to him yet. There definitely wasn't going to be long lasting friendship between them or late night heartfelt talks in their future, but maybe, just maybe, they could survive this without tearing one another to shreds. He refocused himself on the paper in front of him and was finally able to read a full sentence. And this time the only thing he was distracted by was the train-wreck on the page.

* * *

**A/N 2 : **So there it is! I know this chapter is way longer than any of the other ones and I did consider breaking it down into two parts, but it just felt unnecessary. All the events kind of centre around the same thing so I figured might as well just throw it all together... and finally after so soooo much build up, Bellamy and Clarke are shacked up together! I know this chapter was more so a lot of back and forth and banter versus plot progression, but to be honest that kind of stuff is my absolute favourite. And of course I had to include more Murphy... I can't help it guys he's my favourite. I have a weakness for snarky assholes what can I say?

One last thing that I forgot to mention up in my earlier note. Thank you so much to everyone who left a review after my last chapter letting me know about your thoughts on the dual POVs! I 100% agree with you all, I love the alternating perspectives too and I have so much fun getting inside of Bellamy's brain :) Thanks again to all of you for keeping up with this story, and sorry again for going MIA, but I hope this didn't disappoint!


	8. Chapter 8 - House Rules

House Rules

By the time Clarke had finished the daunting task of unpacking, the sun was already on its way down and the hunger she'd been suppressing was pushing its way to the front of her mind. She heard her stomach give out another set of unladylike growls and in that moment she knew she'd do sinful, sinful things for a cheeseburger.

She let out a triumphant huff as she collapsed her final cardboard box, throwing it atop the growing pile she'd stacked up by the window. She gave her new room an appraising look. _Not bad, Griffin_. It was far from perfect; that was for sure. The place still needed some sprucing up and personal touches, but for now it would do just fine. She even counted herself lucky that Lincoln had decided to leave his furniture behind for her to use. Sure dark wood drawers wouldn't have been her first pick to go with her lilac bedding, but she'd take just about anything over living out of a suitcase until she could drag herself out to IKEA.

She knew she'd have to make the trip down eventually – she needed towels, closet storage, and desk organizers amongst other smaller things; just the essentials to make this place feel like somewhat of a home. She was trying to plan out in her head just how painful it'd be to lug that stuff back by bus, because lord knows she was not about to ask Murphy to borrow his van again.

_Damn Murphy_. Clarke really should have known better than to ask for his help. _Note to self_ she thought, no more making deals with the devil. He somehow managed to bring out the most unflattering sides to her temper, and she couldn't even imagine what Bellamy thought of her as she stood outside of his door screaming like a maniac.

Not that she cared what he thought. Truth be told, Clarke had long since stopped trying to understand why or how Bellamy Blake thought or came to conclusions the way he did. But needless to say – some part of her had at least been hoping they could have started off this living arrangement on less uneven footing. She'd completely intended on being civil towards her best friend's grouch of a brother, but any patience and grace she'd mustered had been completely drained by spending a prolonged period of time in close quarters with her difficult colleague.

And so she'd just lost it, and snapped at him - multiple times. Clarke knew she'd been particularly short with him, and she probably came off as having a stick up her ass, but it wasn't like Bellamy had been completely undeserving of it. He'd done more than his share to provoke her, both in the past and present, so why shouldn't she get in a few hits here and there. She let out an exhausted sigh that turned into a yawn. Clarke knew that moving in with Bellamy wouldn't be the most pain free experience. The two weren't close, and the time they did spend together was usually spent at each other's throats. She'd never really minded that much before - small doses of animosity she could take, but Clarke knew that spending the next god knows how many weeks arguing with Bellamy Blake would only shred what was left of her sanity.

But there had been the beer… or "peace offering" as he put it. He also hadn't exactly been an ass when he showed her around the place. And despite his earlier remarks he did help her bring her boxes up. Even though she'd never admit it Clarke was pretty sure she'd been one more trip up the stairs away from passing out. _Note to self_ she thought again, work out more.

Her stomach let out a demanding rumble again and so she figured it was high time she got out of this room and went to hunt down some food. She looked at her phone screen, _8:00pm_ \- a little late, but not obscenely so. It was a Saturday night so Bellamy was probably out. Not that she pretended to know anything about the intimate details of Bellamy Blake's social calendar – but it's what most people their age would be doing.

She threw off her ratty gym shorts and put on a comfy pair of black leggings and head out the door towards the kitchen.

She'd been expecting to enter in to darkness, but to her surprise all the lights in the living room and kitchen were still on. And she wasn't alone either. Bellamy remained hunched over his papers by the kitchen table, massaging his temples with one hand and scratching away in red pen with the other.

"So you are alive then," she heard him say without lifting his head up to look at her, "I was wondering how long it would take you to resurface."

"Yes well unfortunately Lincoln's room doesn't exactly come with a kitchen, and I'm sorry to disappoint you but I have no intentions of starving myself just yet."

Bellamy smirked and set his pen down, flipping around his chair to face her.

"You hungry?"

"Starved." she admitted, making her way over to the kitchen area. She opened the fridge and frowned to see that its contents could only be described as sparse… at best. The entire thing consisted of two six packs, some cokes, and two eggs. She flung open the cupboards and was less than impressed to find that they weren't stocked any better.

She whipped around to face him, "What, are you on an all alcohol diet or something?!" she questioned with indignation.

He got up from his chair and strode over to where she was standing and checked the measly fridge contents for himself.

"Shit. This was supposed to be Lincoln's week doing the groceries. I'm sure there's got to be something we can use -" He leaned in even further and Clarke was momentarily distracted from her hunger by the amusing sight of Bellamy Blake sticking his head all the way into a refrigerator. She opened the door even wider and leaned in next to him.

"Am I missing some sort of secret compartment back here or something?"

He jumped slightly in shock, clearly not expecting her to pop in next to him. It was only a small jolt, but big enough that he knocked his head on the roof of the fridge. She winced at the bang while he proceeded to let out a stream of obscenities.

She leaned back out from the fridge as he closed it and rubbed his head.

"Well I guess that makes us even." she decided nonchalantly.

He shot her an incredulous stare, "How exactly does this make us even? You almost gave me a concussion!"

"And you almost gave me a deviated septum!" She pointed to her nose which was still slightly swollen on the left hand side from when it collided with the top of Octavia's head.

Bellamy grimaced, "Point taken."

Clarke crossed her arms, "So, Master Chef – what exactly are you going to make us with beer, coke, eggs, protein power, and peanuts?"

Bellamy crossed his own arms in response, "I was thinking a gourmet meat and veggie omelet – hold the vegetables and minus the meat. How does that sound Princess?"

She scowled causing him let out an unnerving chuckle that softened his serious expression ever so slightly. "Relax Princess; takeout menus are in the top drawer next to the dishwasher."

She opened the drawer and peered through the menus dubiously, but it turned out her apprehension wasn't necessary. She was a frequent customer from at least five of the places Bellamy had menus from.

"Any preferences?" she asked, not meeting his gaze. Clarke figured she might as well be polite and ask, the last thing she wanted to do was give him another opportunity to stick her with his ridiculous "spoiled brat" jabs. She'd show him. It wasn't like she would have cared that Bellamy Blake thought she was a privileged little Princess – he could think whatever he wanted of her… _if_ it was warranted. But she was not the person he made her out to be and she hadn't been for a while. If there was one thing Clarke hated it was labels; she'd been stuck with them all her life and had tried damn well hard to shed them and she was determined to show Bellamy just how wrong he was. You could say she had an obsession with proving herself right.

But still... she secretly hoped he would say Chinese.

"You pick," he said – his voice laced with boredom.

She peered up at him and raised an eyebrow – "Chinese?"

He nodded and Clarke started to grin triumphantly.

"Just... make sure it Chef Liao's," he added sternly before turning back to his desk so he was no longer facing her.

Bellamy Blake would never know that behind his back, for the first time all week, Clarke was smiling like an idiot.

* * *

A half hour later their food had arrived, and by food Bellamy meant their fucking 12 course meal. Clarke had ordered enough to feed a small country. He'd grumbled something about it all going to waste, to which Clarke had fired him a warning about not speaking to soon. She'd clearly been right and he'd been wrong to underestimate her abilities to scarf down Kung Pao Chicken amongst the plethora of other things she'd ordered.

As he watched her eat, his eyes widened more and more. For such a tiny person, Clarke Griffin had anything but a small appetite. Maybe that's what happened with short people though? They compensated for their height by keeping every other aspect of their life twice as large. That would explain her temper…

"Something the matter?" he heard her ask.

"What?"

"Well I've never see someone look so perplexed while eating Chinese food before."

He softened his brows, "I was just trying to calculate how much money you and my sister must have wasted on food."

"I'll have you know," she muttered between mouthfuls, "that spending money on food is never a waste."

He raised his eyebrow questioningly.

"Ok fine, food may have taken up 90% of our budget, yes. But it was all needed!" she proclaimed while waving her fork around defensively.

Bellamy let out a laugh, or as much of one as he could without choking on his food. That sounded like typical Octavia, back when they were kids she'd always be the one bleeding the grocery store shelves dry. He wasn't surprised that his sister's best friend was the same way. Even if the girl hadn't been a big eater before, after spending a few months with Octavia that was bound to change.

"Speaking of budgets…" Clarke started.

"Clarke I told you it was fine, you don't have to pay me back for this – it's my fault we had to order takeout anyways."

She rolled her eyes, "Easy Bellamy, I know it was your fault. And I agree - I have no intention of paying you back."

He scoffed, "Nice to see were not assigning blame then Princess."

She widened her eyes, "You're the one who just said it was your - ! You know what never mind."

Bellamy laughed again as he noticed the flush that started to creep up on her cheeks. He had to admit, Clarke Griffin was easy to rile up and he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy being the one to vex her.

"You were saying something about budgets?" he said, prompting her to continue.

She let out a breath to compose herself, "Yes budgets. I just think we should set some down some guidelines?"

"Guidelines… for what exactly?"

"For this!" she said waiving her fork between the two of them, "If we're going to survive living together I think it's important we lay down some rules. Think of it like a roommate agreement."

Bellamy frowned. He'd never had to do anything like this with Lincoln. The two of them had just had an unspoken understanding about certain things. Don't touch my stuff, don't leave the trash full. Of course Bellamy had assumed that "Don't date my sister" was also part of that understanding. _C__learly_ he'd been wrong about that one.

"This isn't your college dorm Clarke; we're two adults who were put in a difficult situation. I don't think we need a piece of paper outlining what this needs to mean."

"How astute of an observation you make, yes Bellamy I'm perfectly aware of what our situation is. Still, I think it's a good idea to lay down some groundwork."

He let out a sigh. Something about his track record with Clarke told him that he wasn't getting out of this, and it was futile to try.

"All right, groundwork it is. So come on, give me some examples of what I'm looking at here."

Clarke put down her fork and took a sip of one of the cokes they'd had in the fridge. "Ok well first of all I think we need to get a grocery schedule straightened out. As you know my hours are long… to say the least. So with O I used to squeeze in running to the markets on Monday mornings or Tuesday nights. Then there's the question of what we need to buy. I say we both make lists of typical things we tend to get on a regular basis and give that to the other person before they head out. Of course we can totally scratch that idea and just worry about our own food needs, there's no reason why we have to shop for each other."

She paused for less than a millisecond before continuing all in the same breath, "Then there's obviously the question of rent. I don't know how it works with your landlord yet, so you'll probably need to tell me when that's due. Then we'll have to figure out who pays for any damages or maintenance that needs to get done, oh and we should probably discuss a policy on guests. Then there's - "

It seemed like Clarke finally took notice of his deer in the headlights expression. _Oh god_, Bellamy thought to himself, _What the hell have I gotten myself into_.

He groaned before she had the chance to go on another long winded tangent.

"You're going to have to write this down."

Clarke pushed their plates to the side and leaned over to grab a piece of paper from one of his many piles that had now ended up on the floor. She took his red pen in her own hands and began to write.

_The Griffin - Blake Charter of Rights and Freedoms_

"Seriously?" Bellamy said, glancing up at her. But her face betrayed no signs that she was joking. She made two lines and signed one of them, turning the paper over and sliding it across to him.

"Sign please."

He crossed his arms and shook his head, "Not until I know what I'm signing."

Clarke sighed, "You know you're going to have to sign it eventually."

Bellamy frowned at her confidence, "And what makes you so sure of that Princess."

She fixed him with a devious, and dare he say it, almost teasing grin. "Because," she said slowly and sweetly, "Something tells me you don't want to find out what happens if you don't."

Remembering back to the way she'd dealt with Murphy earlier, Bellamy had to admit - she was right. Something did tell him that getting even further onto Clarke Griffin's bad side was not the move of a wise man.

He took the pen from her outstretched fingertips and never once broke her gaze while he signed it.

"Satisfied?" he asked with a hint of teasing in his voice. Two could play at this game.

"Very," she said extending her cat like grin. "Now, back to business. I think we should start - "

Internally, Bellamy let out a groan. Something told him this was going to turn out to be a long, long night.

* * *

An hour and a half later they were finally down to the last point. He had to admit that he was surprised at how relatively painless the "charter" had actually turned out to be. Clarke had only bit his head off once in the process and that had been a result of a particularly snide comment of his about their cleaning responsibilities. And that was how he was the one who got saddled with two weeks of vacuum duty… _Nice job Bellamy_, real nice.

To be honest they probably could have gotten the whole thing done and out of the way with a lot faster, but he'd been surprised at how often they found themselves getting off topic. Of course it also didn't help that halfway through their hashing Octavia had called him demanding to speak to Clarke (whose phone was apparently on silent). Apparently she needed proof that the two of them hadn't killed each other yet. The operative word being _yet_.

If he was being even more honest with himself, Bellamy might even go so far as to say he was enjoying their planning. Maybe it was because Clarke was turning out to be just as stubborn, or even more so than himself - but butting heads with her turned out to give him some childish sort of amusement. He might even have described it as fun, but that was more honesty than he was comfortable with.

"So," she said bringing him out from the haze of his thoughts, "I guess that's it then."

He looked down at the impeccably neat piece of paper in front of him. Weren't doctors supposed to have bad handwriting?

He scanned the lines over quickly, frowning at the few points he'd been unable to win on.

"Weren't you rambling on about something to do with guests earlier?"

Clarke nodded and yawned, "I was wasn't I? That should be simple enough. I don't really care about what kind of... people you drag through here. As long as they stay out of my room it's fine by me."

Woah, what exactly did she mean by people? Something about the tone of her voice told him he'd just been insulted and he stated as much.

"I just mean that your dating life is of no interest to me, and as long as you keep your dalliances out of my space I couldn't care less."

_What the fuck?_ Oh, now _this_ was interesting. Apparently the Princess thought that he was some sort of a player. It was true that he had been the embodiment of that kind of reputation back in high school and college, but that was years ago. The sad truth was that within the past year Bellamy could count the number of dates he'd been on on two hands, and the number he'd slept with on one. In fact only one of those first dates had even lead to a second and third, but things had turned south after that. He just didn't really have the time or the patience for dating right now, which was why he didn't know from where the hell she'd gotten that impression from. Unless…

Of course, Octavia. It wasn't like his sister actually knew anything about his dating life, but in typical O fashion, she liked to think that she was an expert. No doubt Clarke had heard some less than kind stories from her best friend. But, whatever. Griffin could believe what she wanted, and he felt no need to correct her assumption. Besides, after living here for a few weeks she'd probably be able to come up with a new, more accurate, judgements herself.

"Works for me," he responded - his voice sounding cooler than he could help. He was still put off by the fact that she essentially thought he was a man whore.

"What about you then," he said in an attempt to turn the tables on her, giving her a taste of her own medicine. "Am I to assume the Goblin is going to be a frequent visitor?"

Clarke choked on the coke she'd just taken a sip of and for the briefest of seconds Bellamy felt guilty. But only for a second.

"_Excuse me?_" she spluttered out.

"You know, Murphy. Am I going to be seeing a lot of him?"

Clarke narrowed her eyes, "Yes I got that you were referring to Murphy. Nice nickname by the way - I'm going to use that."

He let out a snicker, "I'll expect credit for that."

She rolled her eyes before continuing, coughing out a couple more times to clear her throat. "To answer your question, no you will most certainly not be seeing more of Murphy. Not if I can help it at least."

"So you aren't…"

"No! God no! Are you trying to make me gag? Did you forget the part earlier when I told you we weren't friends?"

He shrugged innocently, "You said you weren't friends, but you failed to specify what exactly "not friends" entailed. For all I know you could be harboring some unrequited love for the guy."

"Yes," she replied cooly, "Me calling him a parasite just totally screams 'secret desires'."

"You're words not mine," he grinned and threw his hands up in defense.

Clarke tried to frown at him, but ended up letting out another giant yawn instead. "Ok, I'm just going to put guests down as ambiguous."

"Whatever you say Princess." The Princess part came out muffled as he found himself unable to stifle a yawn of his own. He looked down at the ground at the stack of papers he still had to mark and groaned. Clarke must have taken notice of where his gaze had landed on, because she pushed back her chair and stood up from the table. She grabbed their empty containers and sauntered over to the kitchen to throw them out into the trash. She washed her hands and came back over to where he was sitting while drying them off on her t-shirt - which he now noticed was Modest Mouse one. _Huh_, he thought to himself. Bellamy would never have pegged her for a fan, and he was just about to let her know that, but his observation was stopped before it even began.

"Well that just about settles things then," she grabbed the paper from the table and folded it in half. "Thank you for cooperating."

He flashed her a telling look, "You say that like it was voluntary."

She laughed, "I figured I might as well leave you with that illusion."

For a moment Bellamy thought she would say something else as she shifted on her feet awkwardly. What disturbed him though was the fact that for a second he almost wished that she would say something more. Getting underneath her skin had been a welcome distraction from grading papers and he had no desire to go back to being productive.

"Well", she said decisively, "I'll leave you to it then."

He nodded and scolded himself for the flicker of disappointment he felt on the inside. Just before she turned around to leave he called out once more. "What, you aren't going to mount that onto a wall or something?" he gestured to the piece of paper in her hands.

She smirked, "No. I'm going to photocopy it, file it, and send a copy to Octavia for legal proof. In case you feel like breaking any of our agreements."

"You're kidding right?", but the only answer she gave him was a laugh and he had no idea whether or not she was serious.

"Goodnight Bellamy."

_Goodnight_, he thought as he was left in silence, watching the door close behind her.

* * *

**A/N : **Well, there's the end of Bellamy and Clarke's first day as roomies. I actually rewrote this scene a couple of times, because it just never felt right, but I think I was finally able to find a natural balance between their bickering and harmless banter. Oh and in case you're worried that now that these two have hashed out an agreement that things are going to be smooth sailing from here on out... don't be. I have plenty more fiascos and shenanigans for the two of them coming up ;).

I just wanted to say a super quick thank you to everyone who left a review after my last long overdue update, they all seriously put a giant stupid smile on my face :) And another thanks to everyone who's following along with this story; there's over 200 of you now and that's just crazy to me. This is definitely the most attention any one of my fics has gotten so far so thanks! :D Hope you guys enjoyed this latest update and you can expect another one soon!


	9. Chapter 9 - A Week in the Life

A Week in the Life

Bellamy had never been one for cliches, but when that last bell rang on Friday afternoon all he could think was TGIF. He'd had a mellow last period, the AP European History kids had just been working on a mock DBQ so he'd been pretty relaxed getting caught up on some marking at the front, but that was uncharacteristic of his week.

He'd had a week from hell that was for fucking sure, and his new roommate only made up about half of those problems.

The school had chose this particular week for "staff evaluations". Every single day an inspector had been coming around to lurk at the back of a variety of Bellamy and the other teacher's classes. Every single time "Dr." (Bellamy had no clue what this guy had done to merit calling him a Dr.) Arnold Wollingstone pierced him with those beady little eyes and scribbled something down into his notepad Bellamy felt his fists clench and sweat trickle down the back of his neck.

He knew he'd be under scrutiny, after all he was the youngest of all the staff at Seattle Prep. He'd been lucky enough to score this job right out of teacher's college mainly thanks to his old University professor (and, though he'd never admit it to anyone, the closest thing to a father figure Bellamy had ever had in his life) who used to be the headmaster. Robert Crawley had practically been family to him, and hiring a kid who looked like he belonged in the army more than at prep school had been one of the last decisions he'd made as headmaster before he'd died. It also happened to be one of the most controversial decisions he'd made ever, one that had been met with apprehension by just about all the older teachers, and of course the School Board.

Bellamy packed up his desk and sighed, rubbing his hands across his eyes and forehead. It'd been a taxing week. Even after a year of teaching here and making a name for himself he was still met with doubt. Figuring out how to balance being tough while being likeable, approachable while mainting respect, and interesting without being laughable was enough to make anyone start to lose their mind. Sometimes he felt exactly like one of his favourite figures in history, Augustus. A _princeps_ : the man who was a first citizen, a King, but not a king: a first among equals. As emperors, Augustus and those after him had to perform such delicate balancing acts to remain in favour with both the people and the senate that Bellamy couldn't help but feel that he was now playing a similar game... and it was more than enough to make his head spin.

And then there was the other balancing act he was playing… one of an entirely different nature. This first week of living with Clarke had not been what anyone could describe as easy and he was starting to learn that living with a woman, especially one as strong minded as Clarke Griffin, was no walk in the park. But at the same time if Bellamy was being honest with himself, it wasn't nearly as bad as he thought it would be. In fact there were times when it was even entertaining. Yet even so, the two had definitely bumped heads this week… to say the least. He'd been irritable because of the evaluation and it hadn't taken much to push him over the edge.

* * *

Things had started off fine enough. Sunday had almost even been what he'd call nice. Clarke had spent most of the day out with O and he and Lincoln went to go shoot some hoops. Monday is when things started to get a bit "hostile" as Octavia liked to put it.

First there'd been Monday and the coffee incident. Bellamy hated coffee, he'd never had the stomach for the stuff and didn't understand people who did. Octavia was of course a coffee addict and he remembered a particularly not so fond memory when she'd practically ripped his head off for trying to switch her over to decaf.

Bad decision, oh so very bad.

Clarke, as he'd discovered to his chagrin, was worse. He'd found this out at 4:30 on Monday morning when he woke up to the sounds of her rifling through the kitchen, opening every single cabinet like a mad woman.

"Clarke, what the hell are you doing? And why the fuck are you up so early?"

She'd turned to face him. She was already dressed in a navy blue shirt and light blue scrubs, but he could tell she was far from any state to actually be ready to go to work. Her hair was in disarray and her eyes were red and her attention hadn't been fixed on him, instead she kept roaming around the entire kitchen expanse.

"Where's your coffee machine?" she'd asked pointedly.

Bellamy was still half asleep so he'd let out a yawn and tried to rub the exhaustion from his eyes, "Sorry Princess, I don't have a coffee machine."

He'd looked up at her to find her mouth opening in closing soundlessly and she was standing as if she'd just been shot.

"You… you don't have a coffee machine?" she'd asked slowly.

"Nope," he'd popped out. "I hate the stuff."

At this her eyes had widened even more. _Oh god_, he'd thought to himself,_ why did I just say that._

"You hate… coffee?!"

Her tone was shriller than usual and in his exhausted and delirious state it tore through his mind like nails on chalkboard.

"That's what I just said," he replied, stating the obvious.

Her expression was still one of disbelief, and the redness in her eyes made her look like a mental patient.

"How can you hate coffee, your sister _owns_ a coffee shop."

Bellamy shrugged and yawned again, "I eat the bagels."

Before she could say anything else he'd figured he might as well ask, "Are you done now?"

She fixed him with a serious look and if Bellamy wasn't actually a part of this conversation, he'd never guess they were having such an intense discussion... at 4:30 in the morning… about _coffee_.

"How can you function without it? Have you ever even tried one of O's vanilla macchiato's? Because I think if you at least -

Yep. Clearly she wasn't done here. But he was. Bellamy had yawned and turned on his heel and started to walk away towards his own room, ignoring her calling his name as he shut the door behind him to try (and ultimately fail) to get some more sleep before his own alarm woke him up.

He thought he'd heard the last of the coffee machine, but he'd soon found out he was sorely mistaken.

Clarke hadn't come home that Monday night, he assumed she'd been on call, so the next time Bellamy saw her was after work on Tuesday afternoon. He'd been coaching the lacrosse team after school so when he got back he wasn't only exhausted, but hot and sweaty as well. Seattle, a city he loved for it's cool and rainy weather, had been uncharacteristically hot all week.

"It's global warming," he remembered Clarke telling him on Sunday night after she'd gotten back from spending the day with Octavia.

"It's a global pain in the ass is what it is." he'd replied stupidly, which landed him a long winded lecture from Clarke about the scientific fact behind the phenomenon. Oh what fun that had been.

Anyways, the only thing he'd wanted to do was walk straight to the shower and wash the day and the stress off of him, but as he threw his book bag onto the kitchen island he noticed something was off, something was different.

Bellamy's kitchen wasn't big by any means. He was lucky enough to have an island, but besides that counter space was significantly limited. The knife and wine racks plus the toaster and blender already took up a significant amount of space so he quickly noticed that right there in the left hand corner next to the fridge, a new shiny black appliance had joined his collection. And a big one at that.

Clarke was sitting at the kitchen table, eyeing him over her laptop.

"What's this?" he'd asked, knowing perfectly well what it was.

"Don't tell me you hate coffee so much you've blocked all aspects of it from your memory? It's called a coffee machine Bellamy."

"I know it's a - I mean what's it doing _here_?"

"Well," she'd said closing her computer, "seeing as it's a kitchen appliance… call me crazy but, I figured it should go in the kitchen."

He was in no mood to put up with her sass.

"And was it your intention to buy the biggest one in the store? Jesus I don't even want to know how much something like this cost."

She'd frowned, "For your information I didn't buy it. Lincoln, unlike you the deranged coffee cynic that you are, already had a coffee machine so I called O and picked up our old one from her. Problem solved."

"Problem _not_ solved," he retorted, "that thing is huge, look at how much counter space it takes up!"

And the argument had gone on. When he talked to Lincoln about it on Wednesday during their lunch break his response had been, "Dude, seriously? You bit her head off over counter space? You know what you two sound like don't you?"

"No I don't please enlighten me." Bellamy had responded dryly.

Lincoln grinned knowingly, "An old married couple."

He'd coughed and rolled his eyes, "Oh please."

Lincoln laughed at his reaction and elbowed him, "I'm telling you Bellamy," he said as he stretched his arm out in from of them, "I can see you're golden anniversary shimmering on the horizon."

Bellamy shrugged the hand off, "I hate you."

Octavia had had a similar reaction. Later that day he'd picked up his phone to see he had 3 missed calls from his sister, and he called her back on his walk home after class.

"Did you seriously get pissed at Clarke for putting our old coffee machine in your kitchen?"

Bellamy sighed, "Hello to you too sis." He'd heard clanging in the background and he assumed O was shuffling around the cafe somewhere.

"Hey. Now answer the question. I'm busy with the after work crowds."

"Well what was I supposed to do? The thing is huge!"

Now it had been Octavia's turn to sigh, "You seriously are hopeless when it comes to living with girls."

"Hey," he scolded, "I lived with you for 18 years."

"And that's exactly how I know I'm right. Now here's what your going to do."

Octavia lectured him about the rights and wrongs of dealing with Clarke, most of which he'd already figured out anyway. The girl was sensitive about her coffee, Bellamy wasn't going to make that mistake again, blah blah blah. But according to O (and Lincoln apparently) he needed to make up for being, as his sister so eloquently put it, "a dick." He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

So he'd done what he hadn't done in 3 years and bought a coffee. He'd even gone out of his way to head over to The ARK and get a vanilla macchiato. _That should do the trick_, Bellamy thought. According to O this was a normal thing between roommates.

"Clarke and I would get pissed at each other all the time, but you fight, you get each other a cupcake, and you move on."

"I am not getting her a cupcake," he'd firmly stated.

"For fuck's sake Bellamy."

* * *

And so they'd settled on coffee. _How poetic_, he'd thought to himself as he made his way up the final steps to the apartment. He had just turned the key when he heard what sounded like a war cry come from behind the door.

_What the fuck?_

He opened the door quickly and the sight he found did nothing to clear up his confusion.

Clarke was heaving his lacrosse stick up behind her head, waving it around trying to "shoo" something. That "something" was a bird. A freaking _bird_, in his apartment.

"Clarke, what the fuck?" he said as something black flapped towards his face.

She whipped around to face him, "Shit, shit - Bellamy close the door, don't let it get out into the hall."

He'd widened his eyes, "Why the hell not?! Then at least it'll be out of here!"

The bird had changed it's course and was now flying down the hall towards, yep - his bedroom. Perfect.

"Crap." Clarke said, as she scurried over, lacrosse stick in hand towards his room. "You think getting the bird out of the hallway will be any easier than getting it out of here? No, at least this way we can get it out the balcony again."

Bellamy had followed her, and tried hard to ignore the fact that she was stepping into his room. He was pretty sure this is exactly what he'd call crossing boundaries. It's not like he was hiding a dead body, or a shrine to Madonna, but still. His room was private and he wasn't sure he was ready to have Clarke snooping around in it. Luckily she seemed to be too distracted by their feathered menace to be taking in her surroundings.

"How the fuck did it even get here in the first place?" he'd asked.

Clarke turned around and bit her lip, staring at him guiltily. "I may have left the balcony doors when I left for work this morning…"

Bellamy groaned, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I know, I know alright, you can call me stupid and yell at me later, but for now can you please just help me get this thing out of here?"

He threw his hands up in exasperation. This couldn't possibly be happening to him right now, surely this kind of shit only happened in sitcoms.

"What am I a bird whisperer?"

"Bellamy," she said with very little humour in her tone, "Come on, I need your help."

He sighed in defeat, "Fine, fine. Now what exactly are you planning to do with that lacrosse stick?"

She kept her eyes on the bird, which was perched on a stack of books on the top of Bellamy's bookshelf. _If that thing shits on my copy of Inferno I'm going to lose it_, he thought.

"Catch it?" she said, with significantly less confidence in her voice than usual.

He raised his brows, "And how's that been working out for you so far?"

"Swimmingly," she said through gritted teeth as she tried to stretch the stick out slowly to reach the bird. With her being the one holding it, it barely reached the middle.

He'd carefully stepped up behind her, so close that his chest was almost touching the backs of her shoulders. For a moment he was painfully aware of the fact that this was the closest he'd ever been to her and he was almost sure he caught the faintest whiff of her perfume. Bellamy shook his head and cleared his mind, this was not the time to be thinking about Clarke Griffin's perfume.

He stretched his arm out and gripped the stick above her hand. He'd clearly startled her because she whipped her head towards him, "What are you doing?"

"Shh," he whispered harshly, "you're going to scare it away. Let go of the stick."

Clarke, surprisingly, did as she was told and quickly stepped out of his arms. He was about to tell her to go shut the door when she did exactly that of her own accord, almost as if she knew exactly what he'd been thinking. She closed it and stepped back closer to him and whispered, "Ok. Now what?"

"Go open the window." He could hear her doing just that, but Bellamy hadn't turned to look. Instead he was focused on the bird. Up close it didn't seem so menacing, it was just a small grey pigeon. Totally ugly, but harmless… for now.

"Hey little guy, how's it going up there, things going good?" He took a few steps closer, the lacrosse stick was now level with the birds height. "I'm not doing too great myself, but hey you know what sounds fun? If you just hopped on over to this stick." He inched it closer and closer, the bird cocked it's head and looked at the incoming white object. It hopped a step closer.

"That's it," Bellamy had cooed, "Good boy, come on just a little closer, just a little closer." And to his sheer fucking disbelief the pigeon hopped from the book to the stick.

"Ok," he breathed a sigh of relief, "Now, you lil shit, we're just going to bring you over to the window. Sound good? Yeah?' He moved the stick slowly downwards and to the left, carefully bring it closer to the window.

"That's it, that's it, now", the stick was just inside the opening of the window, "Jump!"

He'd jolted the stick outwards and the pigeon had played it's part perfectly and fluttered out the window. Bellamy breathed a sigh of relief while Clarke shut the window.

He'd turned to face her and found that she looked like she was trying her hardest to fight back a smile. Her lips were pressed in a tight line and her eyes were practically beaming.

"Something funny Princess?" he asked coolly.

She shook her head, "Nope, nothing. Nothing at all." And she'd walked out the room leaving Bellamy alone to try and process what had just happened. He figured he should tell her about the coffee he'd brought, but before he could he heard her call from the kitchen.

"Vanilla Macchiato?"

He stood in the doorframe from where he could see her pointing at the counter. He nodded and she'd smiled, and that'd been the last he'd seen of her since.

It was only afterwards that he remembered he should have asked her to keep her mouth shut about the fact that he'd been talking to a pigeon.

* * *

So things had been rocky, but they'd sorted themselves out… for now.

He left the classroom and found Lincoln, who he hadn't seen since lunch earlier in the week, leaning against the brick wall across from him.

"Hey man, ready to go?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

They walked down the hall to the large oak doors and out into the still stuffy Seattle air.

"Hey you still coming on Saturday?"

After the stress and downright ridiculousness of this week, Bellamy had almost completely forgotten about Saturday, and what exactly he was supposed to be coming to.

"Saturday?"

Lincoln smiled, "You forgot didn't you? Oh man you so owe me for reminding you, O would've been pissed if you hadn't shown up."

Ah yes, now he remembered. The housewarming party. O had mentioned it earlier in the week, but like with most things his sister said to him, most of it went in one ear and out the other.

"Well then sounds like I don't have much choice in the matter, now do I?"

Lincoln laughed, "Neither of us do brother, neither of us do."

Bellamy winced at the Lincoln's choice of speech. B_rother_. He'd just had to deal with the two of them moving in together, a wedding was just about the last thing he could handle right now.

Lincoln continued, "So I'm assuming you're getting there early too?"

Bellamy frowned, "And why exactly would I be getting there early?"

Lincoln shrugged like he was pointing out the most obvious thing in the world, "Clarke's coming over to help set things up, I just assumed you two would want to get there together. You know. Because you're married."

He turned to face his friend who was grinning from ear to ear. "What are you, seven?"

Lincoln just laughed causing Bellamy to roll his eyes and groan. "You and O are just loving this aren't you?"

"Not going to lie, you two are like our own personal reality TV show. Octavia has us taking bets on whose going to kill who first. My money's on Clarke by the way, in case you were curious."

"Thanks man, appreciate it," he noted with mock sincerity.

Lincoln punched his shoulder playfully, "Always here for you man."

Bellamy sighed, "Well you should know by now that Octavia has a penchant for dramatics. I don't know what my sister has told you, but Clarke and I are getting along fine."

Lincoln let out another laugh, one that sounded more like a snort. "Seriously? I'm sorry man but I just can't see you two as being anything but at each other's throats."

Bellamy let out a non committal grunt, not acknowledging Lincoln's perfectly valid statement. "Well, we've been getting along fine since I bought her that coffee."

"And why did you do that again, oh yes that's right. Because the day before you two had been at each other's throats. I rest my case pal."

"Lincoln." Bellamy said calm and low, replicating the same tone Clarke had taken with Murphy just a few days earlier.

"Yeah mate?"

"Shut up."

He saw him throw up his hands in the defensive, "Whatever you say Bellamy."

After that they walked in silence and Bellamy thought he was finally at peace for the day, until a minute later Lincoln broke the silence Bellamy had been savouring.

"So... you talk to any birds today?"

Oh for fuck's sake.

* * *

A half hour later Bellamy walked into the apartment with a sub from Subway in his hands. He'd originally planned on making himself some pasta but_ fuck it_, he thought. After this week he was making the adult decision to let himself be lazy.

The first thing he noticed when he walked in was the fact that again, the door to the balcony had been left open.

_Dammit Clarke_, he thought with annoyance. He could hear the shower running from behind her bathroom door, so clearly she'd forgotten it again, but luckily this time no unwanted creatures had decided to make themselves at home. He dropped his stuff down in his room and went over to shut it.

Afterwards he grabbed a plate, his sub, and a beer and sat down at the kitchen table. He also pulled out a book from his bag. _The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_ by Edward Gibbon. It was massive and he'd been nursing it for months now, but he was loving every single second of it. Bellamy opened its pages and as he ate he quickly became immersed in his favourite place, history.

Unfortunately his peace was short lived because 10 pages later he heard a door slam open and Clarke run out from the bathroom into the living room, headed straight for the balcony.

"Crap, crap crap," he heard her say breathlessly, but once she'd realized that the doors were closed she stopped and slowly turned to face him.

It took everything he had to keep his eyes from bulging out of his face and his mouth from opening in awe like a cartoon character. Clarke was standing in the middle of the living room clad in nothing but a navy blue towel, one that did very little to hide her legs. Despite the fact that she was one of the shorter girls he'd ever met, Bemally couldn't help but take note of the fact that those legs, which were still glistening and wet from her shower, went on for days.

_Stop staring_, he chided himself and tore his gaze from her legs to bring them up to her face. Clarke's cheeks were flushed and he couldn't tell if it was from the heat of the shower or from embarrassment. She gripped the top of her towel and shifted it up higher, but it still didn't cover the top part of her chest that was noticeably bulging out from beneath the navy blue cover.

Bellamy swallowed, hard, and forced himself to find something to say. Thankfully Clarke beat him to it.

"I didn't know you were home."

"Obviously," he said after a pause, nodding his head to gesture in her direction.

She straightened herself up and gripped her towel tighter while shifting on the balls of her feet, "Right well, I'll just be getting back to it then."

Holy crap, he thought to himself. She is so uncomfortable right now. He had to admit this was completely new territory to him. In the past week he'd been living with Clarke Griffin she'd been anything but vulnerable. Infuriating, intense, and unrelenting : that was the Clarke he'd come to expect, but this was something different entirely.

He figured he had two choices here. On the one hand he could take advantage of the situation. Flash her a trademark smirk and gleam satisfaction at watching her squirm. Or, he could go with option B. Option B being the very unBellamy like decision of not being an asshole.

He settled for something in between.

"You are aware that your shower is still running, right?"

In a second the blushing and defenseless Clarke Griffin, along with the palpable tension in the room, was gone and he was met with the return of her pointed stare and he never thought he'd be relieved to see it.

"Really? I'd forgotten," she replied sarcastically before turning on her heel and heading back to the washroom where her glare, and her legs, were out of sight. Bellamy shook his head trying, albeit unsuccessfully, to get the image of her in a towel out of his head.

* * *

She came back out about five minutes later, significantly less drippy and disheveled than before. She'd swapped out the towel for a loose t-shirt and the same blue scrubs he'd seen her wearing earlier, ones that mercifully hid what he now knew were some incredible legs beneath them.

She walked over to the fridge, picked out a coke and sat down across from him. His head was in his hands and he massaged his temples, trying to will away the headache he knew was soon to come. Silently, he hoped that she wouldn't bring up the weirdness that had just passed between them and he wouldn't have to acknowledge it.

Lucky for him, his prayer seemed to be answered.

"So," she started, "Long day?"

Bellamy took a gulp of his beer and sighed, "Long week."

She gave him what looked like a sympathetic smile and he now took the time to notice the exhaustion that was etched on her own face. Come to think of it, he'd barely seen her this entire week. Huh, she clearly hadn't been exaggerating about her hours.

"I don't know how you can deal with teenagers all day," she stated, "I think I would lose my mind."

He grinned knowingly. Bellamy was used to getting those kinds of observations from people, but to be honest - the kids were his favorite part of the job.

"Honestly, the kids are fine," he replied, "It's the adults that are the real pain in my ass."

She responded with a half smile, "You sound like a bad boy with authority problems."

He smirked, "Well if the shoe fits."

She rolled her eyes in response. "So tell me, who exactly is "the Man" in your story?"

Bellamy took a swig of beer and before he knew it he was ranting about every single person at work who made his life a living hell, including Dr. Beady Eyes. Clarke, surprisingly, let him talk and talk – interrupting only to make disgusted snorts and comments about how to take them all down.

"Yes, because that will do wonders for my reputation." Bellamy quipped back after a particularly ludicrous suggestion.

"Well what's your strategy been so far? Kill them with kindness?"

"My only '_strategy_' is to stay under their radar." And that was the truth. Seattle Prep was a traditional and conservative school, people who made ripples were the ones who ended up getting drowned.

"I'd rather not give the board any excuses to get rid of me."

At this Clarke shook her head, "I think you're reading too much into this Bellamy. I'm pretty sure the board of a private school has bigger things on their mind than getting rid of a more than capable history teacher."

He looked up at her solemnly, "You'd be surprised at the things that people with power choose do."

At that moment he saw a dark look flash in her eyes, along with an emotion that he couldn't quite place.

"No," Clarke said in a less playful tone than before, "I don't think I would."

Suddenly Bellamy wanted nothing more than to change the tide of their conversation. He probably could have just ended things there, excused himself – gone back to his room and finished reading his book in peace, but somehow that was the last thing he wanted to do. He realized this was the most civil conversation the two of them had had all week, and to his surprise he didn't want it to stop.

"So… how about you? You kill the Goblin yet?"

The light returned to her eyes and she let out a knowing grin.

"Yes actually. And it's done wonders for my reputation."

She looked down at her watch, one that Bellamy couldn't help but notice looked far more manly and big than the ones he usually saw girls wearing.

"Speaking of work, I got to go."

Bellamy frowned, "Oh?" _Crap_, he thought, even he could hear the disappointment in his voice.

Clarke shrugged as if to say "c'est la vie" and downed the rest of her coke. "I'm on call again, with Murphy this time. Trust me, if I restrained myself from killing him before, after 8 hours in an emergency room something tells me I'll be far less controlled."

Bellamy smirked, "And something tells _me_ he'll deserve it."

She smiled and turned to head back to her room, before stopping once more. "You're going to O's tomorrow… right?"

"Do you really think I have a choice in the matter?" He asked dryly for the second time that afternoon.

"I suppose not. Well anyways I'll see you there then. I'm heading over early to help set up, in case you want to tag along."

_Tag along?_ What am I a puppy? Apparently that latter thought hadn't been silent.

"Don't be stupid. You're way too grouchy to pass for a puppy."

He narrowed his eyes, "Please. Don't hold back on the flattery."

Clarke grinned with satisfaction, "Anyway the offer's open, and I'll be there at 2 if you decide you want to come." She head back to her room and Bellamy watched her go, forcing himself to bring his mind back down to the book in front of him. He felt the familiar crease appear between his eyebrows as he struggled to focus on the words on the page. He found his thoughts drifting back to his conversation with Clarke. Maybe he was just overthinking things; maybe the Board wasn't so bad. But then why did he still have that unshakeable pit in his stomach every time he walked down those halls, or sat in a staff meeting? The feeling that told him: "You don't belong."

Clarke came back into the kitchen and picked up her keys from the counter. Bellamy thought she was about to head out the door, but instead she broke the silence between them once again.

"If I were you, I'd stop worrying about those private school pricks. You're ten times the teacher that any of them could ever be."

He stopped reading, but didn't look up at her, unable to process the fact that she had just given him what seemed to be a genuine compliment.

"How can you possibly know that?" he asked, keeping his voice devoid of any emotion that would betray just how off kilter he felt.

Clarke sighed and for a moment he thought she was going to step closer. He felt himself tense, but was strangely disappointed when she stayed in place.

"Because you said the kids are fine. And that's not something I'm willing to bet most people who spend their entire day with teenagers would agree with."

When it was clear he wasn't going to say anything else Clarke moved out of his line of sight and he could hear her opening the door. He should have said something, he should have said thank you. Now he was just acting like an idiot or an asshole… again.

"I'll see you at 2." he called out with haste before she could step out into the hallway.

"See you at 2." And he told himself that there was a smile in her voice.

He turned back down to face Edward Gibbon and started to read again, but twenty minutes later he hadn't even made it to the next page. No, Bellamy Blake now found himself distracted by something else entirely.

* * *

**A/N : **Hey guys here's the next chapter! I'm sorry it took me so long to get it posted... the main reason was because I was out of the country for 3 weeks and time to write wasn't exactly a thing I had much of. And the other reason was that honestly I was feeling pretty creatively blocked when it came to this chapter. In my mind the next few scenes after this one and where I want the story to go are so vivid, but they didn't fit in quite yet. I loved the idea of doing a "week in the life" kind of thing to bridge things a little bit, but at the end of the day I'm not really sure how happy I am with the way things turned out. Anyways, I hope this chapter didn't turn out to be too useless :/

Also I know I haven't really mentioned it too much yet, but I thought I'd just thrown in this disclaimer that for the sake of this story I'm putting Octavia/Clarke and Bellamy a little closer in terms of age. So for anyone wondering, Clarke s 26, O is 25, and Bellamy is 28. (I'm going with Clarke and O both did 4 years Bachelor's plus Clarke doing a 4 years MD program). Bellamy did his Bachelor's starting when he was 20 (4 years undergrad + 2 years Master's + 1 year of teacher's college) - he got hired right out of TC so when he was 27. Hope this helps anyone whose been wondering about the logistics of their ages and such. I know I'm always super anal about these things so I thought it'd be nice to get it down :)

As always thank you guys again so much for supporting this story! It's turning out to be just about my only creative outlet right now and writing it (especially writing my precious bb Murphy) is just such a blast :)


	10. Chapter 10 - Do You Remember?

Do You Remember?

Clarke ended her 8 hour emergency room shift in typical fashion: covered with vomit.

"Geez Griffin you reek," Murphy said disgustedly as he joined up with her to walk back into the resident locker room.

After spending 8 hours on her feet her patience was wearing thin and so she spun around to face him.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," she deadpanned.

He shook his head knowingly, "See, this is exactly why I tell you not to take the kiddy patients."

She widened her eyes, "Oh, you _tell me_? You don't tell me anything! You take all of the easy cases before I even get a chance to look at them while I get saddled with the miniature geysers!"

Murphy shrugged, "Not my fault you're not as quick and perceptive as I am."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Yes well it's too bad I don't have the skill set you picked up while being a juvenile delinquent," she jabbed back.

He smiled like the goddamn Chesire Cat, "Touché Griffin, touché."

* * *

After she'd showered and redressed for the second time that day, Clarke walked over to her locker space where Murphy was leaning impertinently.

"Much better," he said as his eyes roamed her up and down.

She fought back the urge to roll her eyes, but was more disconcerted by the fact that having Murphy's eyes staring at her post showered and clothed body made her feel entirely different than being under Bellamy's gaze just a few hours earlier. That moment had been one of the most embarrassing of her life. She'd tried her best to ignore the way his gaze had bore into her towel clad body, but she had been unable to control the blush that she was sure crept over her entire face. She didn't know why she'd felt so uncomfortable. She was 26 for crying out loud, she'd been seen in far less than a towel, but something about the way he'd looked at her threw her off balance. She'd felt mortified, like she was on display… like she was being judged.

When his eyes had finally met hers a few seconds later (even though to Clarke it had felt like hours), she was even more surprised not to be met with his usual impassive, unreadable, and stone cold stare. No, instead Bellamy Blake had been looking at her like he was in shock… like he was _impressed_.

She shook her head; she'd probably just been imagining things. But whatever it was, that moment had been too confusing to forget. She refocused on the fact that Murphy was still leering at her so she threw her wet towel at him.

"Eyes up here asshole," she said while trying to get her towel, which he now held hostage above his head, back from his reach.

"You know what? I think I'll keep this. I'll just go ahead and add it to my Clarke Griffin shrine."

Clarke gave another tug and he finally relented his grip, laughing while she stumbled backwards and almost tripped over herself.

"I hate you," she spat with conviction.

"You know what they say Griffin – hate is the only thing stronger than love."

Clarke looked at him with a blank stare, "Murphy, _no one_ says that."

"Sure they do," he teased. "You've just been hanging around with the wrong people."

Clarke shoved him out of the way and grabbed her purse from her locker, closed it, and started heading towards the door – inwardly cursing the fact that she heard his steps fall in behind her.

"Speaking of people," he started, "Are you finally going to tell me about life with the hot teacher."

Clarke groaned. Murphy had taken to calling Bellamy that all week. She cringed at the thought of him saying that around him. God knows Bellamy would probably just assume that Clarke had been the one to coin the nickname.

She looked over her shoulder at him, "What did I tell you about calling him that?"

Murphy shrugged innocently, "You told me not do it… so obviously I'm going to keep on doing it."

_Typical_, she thought.

"Oh come on Griffin," he begged once they'd quit the confines of the hospital and were standing by the bus shelter. The air was misty, and at the risk of being cliche, she thought it felt like the calm before a storm. She looked at the still full parking lot and couldn't help but feel a bittersweet tug within her. Any other place would be deserted at this hour, but not the hospital. That's what she'd loved about it when she was a kid; it was a place constantly buzzing with energy, not the claustrophobic quiet she'd always felt at her parent's house.

As she grew older she knew that the buzz that'd been so comforting to her wasn't something pleasant to most people at all. To them it wasn't a sanctuary; it was the place where their lives would change, often not for the better. But still, even with the grim truth behind it, that buzz had always put her at ease. It had always made her feel at home.

Murphy's voice brought her back to the present, "Stop being so mum Griffin, spill the details already I'm dying over here."

She sighed, "You know you really have got to get yourself more of a social life."

Suddenly she felt a hand on her elbow and she turned to face her colleague, who was now giving her the most stomach churning puppy dog face she'd ever seen. _Oh god make it stop_, she thought.

"Fine!" she cried in defeat and exasperation, "But I don't know what you want from me, there's nothing to tell."

Murphy scoffed as he sat down onto the bench and patted the space next to him, "I find that hard to believe… I have a sixth sense for these things, and there was some serious tension between you two."

She could say what she wanted to about Murphy, but he was spot on about that.

"There's history there? Am I right?"

She sighed; this was the last thing she wanted to get into right now, with Murphy of all people. Yes, there was history between her and Bellamy, some of which even Octavia didn't know.

She checked her watch, 5:53. She had 7 minutes before her bus, and something told her that Murphy had no intentions of letting up, and so despite what her brain was screaming at her, she sat down next to him and decided she'd finally tell the truth.

"You know that Bellamy is Octavia's brother, right?"

She saw him grin, "Yes oh yes I do. Damn that is one hell of a gene pool."

Clarke rolled her eyes, "Anyways. O and I were roommates back in freshman year of college. We may be best friends now, but let's just say that things between the two of us got off to a rocky start."

He nudged her, "You're going to have to elaborate on that Griffin."

She paused before answering, blanching at the memories that were now resurfacing.

"I was a spoiled brat ok?" she admitted reluctantly. She hated remembering this part of her life, and looking back at the ways she'd acted Clarke struggled to find much to like about her past self.

"My parents were filthy rich, and I wasn't used to being in a dorm or being on my own. I was whiny, I complained, and probably threw a tantrum or two. I needed control, I always needed the upper hand, and I wasn't used to having to share that. Honestly, I'm surprised Octavia resisted the urge to kill me. I thought she was a bitch and she thought I was a pathetic little Princess, and I can't blame her for telling her brother the same."

"You're talking to the King of rocky starts Griffin… no one's perfect," Murphy chimed in, "Not even you. We've all been assholes at one point or another."

Clarke knew he was trying to make her feel better, but to be honest his show of sincerity just confused her.

"Well anyways," she continued, trying to ignore the way Murphy was looking at her. It wasn't his usual mocking grin – that she could handle, what she couldn't handle was this look of pity.

"O and I had our fair share of problems; I'm pretty sure I even went to the Residence Office to try and switch roommates more than once, but that didn't go anywhere. About two months in to college, she told me her brother was coming up to visit. She told me this the morning of, and I completely flipped at her. What was I supposed to do? Just book myself a train home or sleep in a room with a random stranger? It got pretty blown up and of course Bellamy showed up right in the middle of it. Well lucky for me, little did I know that I'd actually met this "complete stranger" the night before, down at one of the pubs close to campus."

Murphy widened his eyes, "Oh my god don't tell me you –"

"No!" she yelled, stopping his train of thought before it could go any further. "Nothing like that. We were both just tipsy, but we talked for what must have been hours. To be honest he was probably the nicest guy I'd met at college up to that point. But the next time he saw me, I saw no recognition in his eyes. The only thing I saw was him realizing that his sister's spoiled roommate was exactly like she'd described and maybe even worse."

She still remembered that scowl to this day, granted he hadn't looked at her with that much disdain of recently, but still. Clarke knew what people said about first impressions, and when she reflected on the past week living with Bellamy, she couldn't help but feel that they were both trying their best to forget hers.

"And that's that," she said conclusively. "He made his mind up about me then and there, and even after O and I became friends I was still that same girl to him. And I'm positive he doesn't even remember meeting me that night in the pub."

"Damn Griffin, and here you were earlier trying to convince me there was "nothing to tell"."

The corners of her mouth turned downwards and she found herself deep in thought. To be perfectly honest she hadn't thought about that night in the pub in a long time or the way things with O had been back at the beginning. The two had come to a not so silent agreement that the past was the past and at this point in their friendship they'd been through so much together to let a few bad months tarnish their memories.

But sometimes, like now… those dark times would resurface. She hated the person she used to be, and every single damn time Bellamy Blake called her "Princess" he reminded her of everything she'd tried to forget, and everything that had made her change.

"Well it was years ago, none of that stuff matters now. We're not stupid college kids anymore. We're just two adults living together."

Murphy raised his brow, "So…. you don't "hate" him."

If Clarke was being honest, two weeks ago she probably would have said yes. Maybe not hate, but she certainly had no warm and fuzzy feelings towards the older Blake. But even with their fights, she had to admit, living with him wasn't as bad as she would have thought. Yes, he was a total ass half the time, but at the end of the day he'd helped her out when no one else would and she was starting to think that maybe they'd finally been able to put the past behind them.

"No," she said with about as much confidence as she could muster, "I guess I don't."

She could feel him staring at her with somewhat of a puzzled expression on his face, and she was relieved when her bus finally pulled up in front of the hospital. A part of her wished that'd she'd just decided to walk, but it was early and she was exhausted and now all she wanted to do was take a nap and forget this conversation had ever happened.

She stood up from underneath the bus shelter, and Murphy got up with her, back to his usual sarcastic self.

"Thanks for the story time Griffin, but try not to beat yourself up about it. At least you grew out of your asshole phase; I'm in this for life."

She couldn't help herself, she cracked a small smile.

She nudged his arm the way he had earlier, "Thanks Murphy. But You know when you try, you can _almost_ be pleasant to be around."

Murphy winced, as if that compliment physically pained him. He mussed up her hair before she could stop him and she tried to (unsuccessfully) swat him away.

"Ugh I take that back, you're the worst. I still ha-"

"Hate me," he finished for her, "Yeah. I know. Now stop fooling around and get on your damn bus."

Clarke rolled her eyes, but did as he said. She got onto the practically empty bus and took a seat by the window. She hadn't noticed that the mist she'd felt earlier had turned into typical Seattle rain, finally ending the drought they'd been going through. As the drops trickled down the window Clarke caught sight of the distorted image of Murphy. She almost considered sticking her tongue out at him, or flipping him the bird, but she figured it'd be pointless - he wouldn't be able to see through the rain covered window at all.

And yet he still stood there, staring at the bus. It was only when it started to drive away that she looked back and saw him put his hands in his pocket, and with his head down he headed in the opposite direction of the parking lot and walked straight back into the hospital alone.

* * *

Her damn bus turned out to be a lot longer of a ride than the five minutes she would have spent if she'd just walked. There was construction so it was taking detours on detours, snaking around the city like a tourist without a map. While she sat there on the deserted bus in the early morning light, Clarke couldn't stop her thoughts from drifting to a night she'd tried to forget, a night 8 years ago.

It had been a Thursday night, a night where Clarke normally would have been found in the library or at the gym, but instead she'd been dragged out for a "fun" night by her best friend: Wells. Clarke had never liked bars, and the dingy crammed pub outside of campus (that was notoriously popular for letting in minors and selling cheap beer) was no exception. She was sitting at the bar waiting their second round of drinks when Wells stumbled back to her, and he'd brought company.

"Hey Clarke I'm going to take off all right". His words were slurred and she could barely make out what he was trying to say, but from the way his arms were laced around two girls and that excited look in his eyes, Clarke could pretty much piece the situation together.

"Oh no you're not Wells Jaha. Come on! You cannot seriously leave me here alone."

He waved her off like she was delusional with an uncoordinated flap of his hand.

"You'll be fineeee Clarke," he mussed her hair, "Have some fun!"

He staggered backwards so one of his conquests of the night stumbled into the guy sitting next to Clarke at the bar.

He fixed the bumbling brunette with a glare, only causing her to put a hand to her mouth to stifle a fit of giggles.

Wells was already distracted and pulling her back towards him, trying to lead them out of the bar.

Clarke was starting to feel frantic, the logistics of the situation looking more and more bleak. She'd have to walk back to campus, alone in the dark. How the hell could he just leave her like this?

"Wells, you can't be serious?"

But he was already gone, making his way through the swarm of college kids on the dance floor.

"Great," she muttered turning back towards the bar which now held her two full drinks, "Just fucking great."

She was getting ready to just forget the drinks and figure out a way to get back to the dorm and drown herself in self pity when the person next to her let out a smirk.

"Some friend", a low voice remarked.

Clarke whipped around to face the stranger next to her and ask him not so politely who the hell he thought he was to be eavesdropping on private conversations, but when she laid eyes on the person next to her she lost all traces of intelligent thought.

Leaning his elbows on the bar next to her and nursing a beer was the hands down most gorgeous guy she'd laid her eyes on that night.

He flashed her a lop sided grin and in that moment Clarke thanked the fact that she was already halfway drunk and any redness on her cheeks could just be attributed to her "under the influence" flush.

_Words Clarke_, she'd thought to herself, _now would be a great time to use some words._

"Tell me about it," she'd replied flippantly.

He smirked and leaned in slightly closer. The only reason Clarke had noticed was because she could now make out the colour of his eyes, deep brown, and glazed over in a way that led her to believe this wasn't his first drink of the night.

"You know what they say... with friends like these" he started, with one corner of his mouth still raised and a teasing edge to his words.

She decided to play along.

"Who needs enemies," she finished for him, a smile of her own passing onto her lips.

He laughed, "Seems to me like you are in need of a new friend."

"Why? You know anyone up for the job?"

At that he smiled goofily and leaned back on his chair, pointing his arms at his own chest.

"Well it's your lucky day, because I just so happen to be a perfect friend."

She raised her eyebrow in doubt, "You certainly seem awfully sure of yourself'

He leaned back in closer, the beer he'd been drinking earlier completely ignored.

"I have reason to be. After all I've been told I have a multitude of credentials."

"Wow, _a multitude_, really," she said with mock enthusiasm, "Well let's hear them then."

He flashed her a look that seemed to say "challenge accepted" and for a moment Clarke thought, _Oh god what have I gotten myself into?_

"First of all," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I'm easy to look at."

She rolled her eyes which only made him smile more, but she had to admit that he was right. He certainly was not hard on the eyes, and he definitely knew it.

"Second of all I have never abandoned someone at a strange bar, so that should already gives me points in your book."

"And finally," he dropped his voice before continuing, "I know you."

That made her stop. _What the fuck?_ Who did this guy think he was? Was he on her floor? A guy in her tutorial that she'd just never recognized? She was pretty sure the answer couldn't have been either considering she figured it'd be hard to forget a face like his.

"You _know_ me?" she asked, pinning him under as serious of glare as she could muster when in reality she probably just looked like she was cross eyed.

He finished his beer before eyeing the second one that had been for Wells. She simply shrugged as if to say help yourself.

"What I mean, is that I get you."

"You _get_ me?"

He laughed, "Are you planning on repeating everything I say all night?"

Clarke frowned and opened her mouth to respond, but thought better and just closed it, giving him the sign to continue.

"You, my new serious friend, are what I like to call, the reluctant good girl."

The reluctant good girl? Again she wondered who the hell this guy thought he was.

"Explain," she said.

"Gladly. Let me guess, coming out tonight wasn't your idea. It was your friends, and from the moment you set foot in this deplorable throng of booze soaked stupidity, you've been planning on how to escape."

She was about to open her mouth to refute his ridiculous accusation when he kept going, "You're the golden girl. A+ student, probably Pre Med or Poli Sci and on the road to success. You don't have time for silly college traditions like getting drunk on Thursday nights, or fawning over frat boys. You don't care about the football games, and the foam parties, you're in college for the real deal."

She was speechless and uncomfortable with the way he was able to size her up with such precision, like she was an open book and he was just languidly flipping through her pages. He was right about some things, that was for sure, but not on others. Sure she was in pre med, and of course she wanted to be successful, but that's how she'd been raised. That was the Griffin way.

But that didn't mean she didn't know how to have fun, or that she walked around with a stick up her ass. She certainly hadn't shied away from parties back in high school, but college was a different story. The things she did here mattered, they were what would decide her future. Maybe he was right, maybe she had gone into the experience too seriously. Maybe she had spent more time with her nose stuck in her books than making friends. Maybe she had driven away the only person who probably could have liked her if she'd tried, but she'd cared more about being successful than being kind.

Maybe she had fucked up, big time. And this complete total stranger was finally showing her the way other's saw her, and that person was not someone she liked one bit. That someone wasn't her, that someone was a stranger.

"Hey Clarke," his voice was softer now. Kinder. As if he'd noticed the fact that she was slowly falling into distress. She didn't want to be here with this stranger pointing out how obviously unlikeable she was. "We're friend's right?"

The thought crossed her mind that she didn't even know his name, but it drifted away and she simply nodded.

"Then because were friends I'm going to let you in on a secret," he smiled mischievously and leaned in closer. So close that she felt his breath tickle her ear, "You can have both."

And so he'd bought her a round of shots and they'd drank to everything Clarke had missed out on her first months of college. They drank to the frat boys, and to crappy drunk friends. They drank to the football games, and to the cheap beer. They drank to sketchy bars and to shitty music until they'd become too distracted to even remember drinking at all.

They'd laughed about everything from pervy professors to the chemistry TA that Clarke was unshakably certain was a drug dealer on the side. They'd talked until the pub had grown quiet and the bartender all but kicked them out. For the first time in months she hadn't felt pressure, and she hadn't felt anxiety. She forgot about the anatomy tests, and chemistry labs, and the roommate who hated her, but was impossible to ignore. She forgot about the Clarke Griffin she'd become since leaving home, and remembered the person she used to be. The kind of person who could talk to a beautiful boy all night and laugh so hard it hurt.

And she realized sometime after 3 AM, once she'd been walked back to her dorm by that disconcertingly perceptive stranger, she'd (despite her best efforts) had a fun night after all.

* * *

About 15 minutes later, when she'd finally gotten off that damn bus, Clarke made her way up to her apartment. The place was dark and silent. It looked different in the gray morning light; it looked peaceful, untouched. She crept to her room, not wanting to break the silence and trying to make the illusion last as long as possible.

In her room she kept the blinds open and collapsed onto her bed. The comforting sound of rain plus the ache in her bones being more than enough to lull her to sleep.

That morning she dreamt of crowded bars, college nights, and of a not so unfamiliar stranger with a pair of unnerving brown eyes.

* * *

**A/N : **And here's a Clarke chapter! A little more serious than usual maybe, but hopefully you guys liked the little flashback! Now the question is, does Bellamy really not remember that night at the pub? You'll find out next chapter :) And for those guessing that Murphy maybe has a lil crush on Clarke... I reveal nothing! I will say though that I hate Love Triangles, so I am definitely not going down that road... but things between the two of them may be a little more complex than you know. And why was he was going back to the hospital... well, there's a reason behind that too.

Hope you guys enjoyed the update! I'm already working on the next chapter and it's shaping up to be a fun one :P


	11. Chapter 11 - Everything You Knew

Everything You Knew, Everything You Know

He was sitting with his laptop at the kitchen table post morning run because what else would he be doing at 10:30 AM on a Saturday? He'd been combing through his Netflix trying to find a new show to binge watch - something to fill the hole that Grey's Anatomy had left in his life, but ended up just settling on re-watching season 1. He was about halfway through his second episode of the morning when a red eyed and disoriented Clarke entered the room. He paused and turned around to look at her and was amused at the sight he'd found.

Her clothes were rumpled as if she'd slept in them all night, and her hair was in a familiar state of disarray. After living with her for a week Bellamy was starting to figure out that the "always put together Clarke" was somewhat of a well illustrated facade. Before he'd only ever seen her on rare occasions and he'd either been dragged to meet them at some bar, or make small talk with her while O set up a show at the ARK.

He was beginning to realize that he'd only ever really known this girl in a public capacity, always surrounded either by a throng of people or with his sister. Alone, in the comfort of her own home where there was no one to judge her, Clarke Griffin was someone else entirely. Someone who was probably capable of committing homicide if it meant getting coffee, someone who would rather eat Chinese takeout than a five course meal, and someone who was forgetful, especially when it came to locking a damn door.

Living with her had made her seem real, more flawed than perfect. And if he was being perfectly honest with himself, someone he could actually grow to like.

As if she'd heard his thought about the coffee she groaned and muttered something about caffeine, and he burst into a laugh at the coincidence of it all.

She pierced him with eyes like daggers, "And what _exactly_ is so funny?"

He tried to stifle a snort, covering it up with a cough and turning his nose back into his book, "Nothing Princess, nothing at all."

A couple minutes later she came to sit across from him at the table, giant ass mug of steaming coffee and strawberry cream cheese bagel in hand.

They sat in silence for a few moments while she sipped and sipped until a small smile crept onto her face.

"Better?" he asked.

She let out a contented sigh, "Much."

He shook his head, "I don't know how you can function like that."

She took a bite of her bagel and replied with a mouth still half full, "Whutdya een?"

He raised a brow as if to say s_eriously?_

She swallowed and a slight blush crept onto her cheek, "What do you mean?" she repeated more clearly this time.

"How much sleep are you going off of right now?"

She glanced at the watch on her wrist, "Uhh… 4 hours?"

His eyes widened, "You are insane."

She shrugged as if to say she'd accepted the fact. "I've been sleep deprived since I was sixteen. The pumpkin spice lattes are my way of staying in denial."

"You're not serious?"

She grinned from behind her cup, "Not about the pumpkin spice."

He dramatically swiped at his brow as if he was relieved, "Phew. And here I was worried I was living with the epitome of a white girl."

She put her cup down and stared at him in disbelief, "Bellamy Blake you were sitting alone watching Grey's Anatomy on Netflix and you're worried that_ I'm_ a stereotypical white girl?"

He'd had a retort right on the tip of tongue, but it slipped from his mind and he just sat there open mouthed like an idiot.

Clarke beamed in defeat, "That's what I thought."

* * *

A few hours later they'd decided to just walk to O's together, considering he'd got himself roped in to "helping set up". Clarke filled him in that "helping set up" was really just code for Octavia either gushing or complaining to her about living with Lincoln.

"What the hell am I supposed to do then?" he asked from the hallway as Clarke was getting changed behind her closed door.

"Just stand around and look pretty!" she'd called and he'd let out a stream of incomprehensible growls, trying to ignore the weird mixture of insult and embarrassment he'd felt when she called him "pretty". Bellamy Blake was many things, but _pretty_ was not one of them. Ruggedly handsome? Yes. But "pretty" definitely not.

"Or," the door began to open, "You could actually help and set up. That's an option too. Now, I need your help… "

She stepped out into the hallway where he was was standing and put her hands onto her hips. Now this was the Clarke he'd been used to. She was dressed in a loose white "blouse" (he'd dated enough women to know the difference between a shirt and a blouse) and strategically ripped light blue jeans. Her previously chaotic hair was swept back into a fancy ponytail. Bellamy didn't even know that ponytails could look fancy, but Clarke Griffin's sure did. She looked put together without even trying, like it was effortless for her. He'd be impressed if he didn't know what her version of effortless really looked like.

"Bellamy?"

He dragged his eyes back up to meet her gaze, trying to hide the fact that he hadn't been paying attention to anything she'd been saying in the last minute.

She stared at him knowingly, "You didn't hear a word I just said did you?"

He grimaced, "Guilty."

She sighed and pointed to her feet, "Do these shoes clash with the rest of this outfit?"

"Are you fucking serious?"

She hit him on the arm and he couldn't tell if it was playful or not. After all, the girl really did have a violent streak.

"Yes I am serious!"

"Princess, do I look like I have a fucking clue whether or not those heels clash with your outfit?"

She grinned, "Well you know they're heels so at least that's a start."

He groaned.

She yielded slightly, "Fine, fine, just tell me whether or not you think it looks ok?"

He rolled his eyes, but did as she said. For not the first time since she'd moved in he found himself in an argument he saw no way of winning. He fixed his gaze at her shoes and knit his brows together in concentration. She was wearing heels that had to be at least 5 inches, he came to that conclusion because she was now standing closer to his eye level than he'd ever seen her before. An observation which only made her seem more terrifying.

He shrugged, they were regular deep red heels that seemed to look fine enough to him, but..."Aren't your feet going to hurt in those?"

Clarke stared at him for a moment and then inexplicably burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing she'd heard in years.

He frowned and grumbled defensively, "Fine. They're your feet, do what you want with them."

She gripped his forearm for a moment before letting go as if to steady herself and tried to stop wheezing.

"No, no I'm sorry, it's just that usually I get O to help me with these things and she'd have the complete opposite reaction. She'd probably tell me these were too low and to pick ones that made my butt look better. It's refreshing to get a practical opinion for a change."

He clenched his jaw and swallowed, he hadn't even considered how they made her butt look and now he was fighting himself from stopping to take a glance.

She peered at him, "Oh my god you're thinking about my butt now aren't you?"

He rolled his eyes, "For goodness sake woman. Go change into some sandals and let's go!"

She laughed and ran back into her room, and yes, he did take a peek at her ass as she went.

His sister may have been ridiculous, but he had to admit, she did know what she was talking about.

* * *

Hours later the homecoming party was in full swing. As it turned out he had in fact been roped into helping Lincoln set up while O and Clarke sat on the couch, wine glasses in hand. He couldn't make out any of their hushed whispers, and Lincoln had just resigned himself to it.

"Trust me man," he said, "You don't even want to know."

Around 6 the place had become filled to the brim with people, some of which he knew, and some he'd never even seen before. O and Lincoln's place was bigger than his apartment, but with the amount of people they'd invited you couldn't even tell. But still, even with the crowd, the place was characteristically "theirs". He spotted Octavia's photo's and various band memorabilia wherever he turned. She and Lincoln had even hung up their graduating hats side by side. The place felt like it had been theirs all along even if they'd only been there for one week.

He'd milled around the party, chatting with Lincoln and some of their buddies they played ball with sometimes on weekends. He also saw a couple of girls O and Clarke must have known from college, because he recognized a few of the names, pulling them up from the back of his mind.

Finally, to his disdain, he also was reacquainted with some of his almost roommates. He was nursing a beer talking to one of Lincoln's friends from high school, a decent guy called Penn, when Alex the drummer came up to him.

"Hey! Teacher duuuude! Good to see you man, how you vibing?"

Bellamy frowned. What the actual fuck was "vibing"?

He sighed when it was apparent the drummer expected a reply, "Uh yeah I'm doing good."

Alex grinned like he knew something Bellamy didn't, "Yeah I bet you are."

"What's that supposed to mean."

"Dude, good call with passing me up as a roommate. You got a way sweeter deal, damn that girl is _hot_. So what's the deal with you two? You dating?"

Bellamy glanced over to wear Alex was looking. Clarke was sitting on the arm of the couch talking to some heavily tattooed guys who he could only assume were in a band of some sort. He turned back to Alex who was waggling his brows and Bellamy was immediately reminded of what had annoyed him so much at their first meeting.

He knew he didn't owe this guy an explanation, but he figured he would set the record straight. The last thing he wanted was everyone at this party thinking him a Clarke were an item, and he especially did not want that getting back to Clarke.

"I was doing my sister a favour, Clarke needed a place to stay and I had one available. That's it."

Alex clearly wasn't buying it because he just nodded and said "Sure dude, whateeever you say."

He walked away and Bellamy grumbled under his breath. He tried to distance himself from the main crowd, but pretty much every space in the apartment was filled. He heard O laughing somewhere in the distance, but didn't even want to attempt to find her. He settled on retreating to the kitchen and leaning against the fridge, people watching while finishing his beer.

He saw a blonde head in his peripheral and he turned to see Clarke standing next to him with a bowl of chips in her hand. He had to lean down to look at her now that she'd swapped out of those ridiculous heels for a pair of simple gold flats.

"Chip?" she offered.

Bellamy smirked, "Aren't those supposed to be for everyone?"

She shrugged and grinned slyly, "I've never really been good at sharing."

He laughed and reached out to grab a handful.

"So you wouldn't happen to know why a 19 year old drummer came up to me and asked if I was hooking up with 'teacher dude'?"

Bellamy coughed, almost choking on the chip he'd been eating. Apparently almost suffocating himself was something even Dr. Clarke found hysterical.

She continued, "He also asked me how I was vibing, I mean what the hell is _vibing_?"

Inwardly he breathed a sigh of relief. She clearly wasn't pissed about the accusation, just making a joke out of it. A joke he could work with.

He groaned, "I deal with teenagers all day and even I've never heard of that. But I do know a few things about being 'on fleek'."

She laughed again, "Oh my god, please never say that again."

He continued tauntingly, doing his best impression of a fifteen year old girl, "Clarke, that outfit is totally on fleek."

She gripped her belly and breathed out, "Please it hurts, it physically hurts me."

This time it was his turn to laugh, but it was cut short at the sight of his sister coming up to them with her hands on her hips.

"Bellamy, did I just hear you say the words on fleek?"

He groaned while Clarke looked triumphant, "Yes, yes you did. And I am never going to let him forget it."

He cursed under his breath causing both girls to laugh.

"Clarke, come on I want you to meet someone."

She smiled, "Yeah ok I'll be right there," but she made no sign to move and instead remained leaning next to Bellamy while his sister gave her a questioning look before heading back into the crowd.

"I'm not big on the huge crowd thing," Clarke admitted to him.

It was as if she said exactly what he'd been feeling. Bellamy was sure he'd looked awkward milling around the crowd, but Clarke? He never guessed she felt just as uncomfortable as he did on the inside and if she did, well then she was certainly better at hiding it.

"You? Come on you're a natural!"

She peered up at him with brows raised.

He elaborated, "Come on I saw you talking with those band guys, they were practically enthralled with you."

She grinned at him with half her mouth raised, a smile he was beginning to figure out was the one she used when she was mocking him. "Enthralled, eh?"

He shrugged, and tried to hide how stupid he felt.

"Well, thanks. It's nice to hear I don't look as awkward as I feel. But anyway, what made you say they were band guys?"

"These are my sister's friends were talking about here, I'm willing to bet more than half this crowd has been in a band at some point or another. Plus they had tattoos."

"So tattoo's automatically equal being in a band. Well then, guess that makes me one too."

His eyes widened. Oh no way, Clarke Griffin did not have a tattoo. His expression must have formed the question he'd been thinking because she immediately back tracked.

"Oh no, no way. I am not telling you where it is."

He leered at her and leaned in closer, enjoying the fact that she was getting so flustered, "Then I don't believe you."

Instead of blushing like he expected her too she just straightened her chin and returned a mysterious smile of her own, "I can live with that. And by the way you're wrong."

"Hmm?"

"They're not in a band, they're part of an improv group called Grounders. O and I lived in the same apartment building as a bunch of them back at UCB. She even forced me to join, but I quit after a week, I so did not have the talent to be a part of that. O was a natural obviously, so I went to all their shows. Now they've gotten pretty big and they travel all around the west coast. To be honest they're practically like family to us."

Huh? Improv group… he certainly hadn't been expecting that, and he definitely could not picture Clarke joining something like that, even for a week.

But something about the way she'd said us had made him feel bitter on the inside. Her and Octavia, they really were an _us_. He had to admit he'd never really thought about her friendship with his sister. He'd always found it random that the roommate his sister had hated had suddenly switched from being an enemy to being her best friend, but what the hell did he know about girls?

But the way she talked about the Grounders, like it was a piece of their lives that was so natural to her, Bellamy couldn't help but think about what he'd missed out on. Ever since their mother had died, Octavia had been Bellamy's person. She was the most important thing to him on this planet, and he was closer to her than he was with anyone. But the fact that he hadn't even heard about this chapter in her life, even if it was just an improv group… he couldn't stop himself from feeling like she'd moved on. That she and Clarke were closer than the two of them could ever be.

He didn't feel jealous, no, it wasn't that. If anything he just felt off, like all of a sudden it was painfully obvious that he didn't belong.

He could feel Clarke staring, her eyes questioning why he'd suddenly gone silent, but before she could ask anything they both turned their heads to Octavia who'd returned.

"Clarke!"

Clarke looked at Bellamy for a second longer and put the bowl of chips down next to where she'd been leaning on the counter.

"Yeah, yeah I'm coming keep your pants on."

"You better be…" and Octavia turned back around and this time Clarke started to follow before stopping for a second longer.

"Hey Bellamy?"

He tilted his head to meet her gaze straight on.

"Relax. You're a natural too."

And with that she left and he lost track of her in the mass of people. A crowd he'd apparently been too quick to judge, and he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe he didn't know Clarke Griffin at all.

* * *

Hours, and he meant hours later, the party had dwindled back down to the four of them. Somehow he'd gotten saddled with the duty of helping to clean up, but none of them seemed to be at all interested in doing that right now.

Clarke and Octavia were collapsed onto the couch while he and Lincoln had been demoted to the arm chairs across from them.

Octavia, who after hours on her feet didn't even look tired, suddenly sprang to life suddenly, "Oh Clarke! I totally forgot to tell you, but you know what I just remembered? I have your old easel here."

"Oh my god I haven't seen that in years."

His sister jumped off the couch and ran out of sight to bring back a giant easel from her room.

"Octavia that thing is bigger than you," he pointed out.

"Hush Bellamy," she set it down and looked at it. "I found it in the storage room and was going to bring it over this week, but forgot."

Clarke was staring at the easel like she was seeing an old friend for the first time in years. Bellamy for one was confused why she even had an easel, he didn't even know that Clarke was into art.

"Hey you know what we should do? Pictionary!"

"Octavia it's practically midnight. We don't even have a board."

She flapped her hand dismissing him, "Hush Bellamy."

And all three of them laughed at his expense.

"Fine," he sighed in defeat, "Let's play Pictionary."

Lincoln came around to pat him on the shoulder, "We'll get through this bud."

Bellamy rolled his eyes, but before he knew it they were splitting up into teams.

"I call Clarke," Octavia cried out.

Lincoln place a hand to his chest, "Wow I feel so loved."

Octavia bounced back onto the couch while he and Lincoln sat down on the floor. The two girls laughed and did some kind of weird handshake Bellamy couldn't follow.

"Solidarity sister!" Octavia called.

"Ya! Ya!" Clarke replied, and Bellamy felt completely and utterly lost trying to understand the nuances and antics of female friendship.

* * *

And so they ended up playing their own makeshift version of Pictionary for an hour. _An hour._ The fact that he and Lincoln were getting creamed like there was no tomorrow didn't make the time pass any quicker.

Lincoln flung his hands in the air, "Bellamy, dude, this is _so_ obvious!"

Bellamy growled in frustration, "What are you talking about? You are drawing an intestine. That looks like an intestine."

Lincoln yelled back at him, "The category is books! How can you not know this! What the fuck kind of books were you reading about intestines?"

At some point in the game all three of them had ended up on the ground and Clarke was now bouncing on her knees, her brows knit in concentration before she had a light bulb moment. "Oh my god, oh my god I know! I know! It's the Very Hungry Caterpillar!"

Lincoln groaned and the two girls next to Bellamy erupted into cheers.

Clarke went up to take Lincoln's place while he sat down next to Bellamy and whacked him on the head. "Seriously Bellamy, _Seriously_?"

Bellamy shoved him off, "It's not my fault you can't draw for shit!"

"Boys play nice," Clarke chided from the front.

"What category are we doing now?" she asked.

"Book to Movie Adaptations" O called, taking out one of the pieces of papers they'd cut up.

She smiled, "Adaptations it is."

Clarke started drawing and Bellamy found himself concentrating and mesmerized, not for the first time that night. Unlike Lincoln's image, Clarke's seemed to take shape effortlessly, and it was clear to him she was beyond talented when it came to art. She moved her hand across the board like it was second nature, the only sign she was concentrating was the slight crease that he would catch a glimpse of between her brows. It never even occurred to him that she was showing off, and if anything it was as if they didn't even exist to her. It was just her and the crayola marker, like a freaking match made in heaven.

She backed away from the board and Octavia was immediately scanning the image.

Clarke had drawn a pair of hands, a man and a woman (they were in stick figures, but still the best damn stick figures he'd ever seen) and a snowflake.

He and Lincoln just stared at each other dumbstruck.

"Bellamy, you're the bookworm, you've got to know this."

He studied the picture and he felt himself growing frustrated, his mind was drawing a blank.

Meanwhile Clarke and Octavia were communicating with each other, practically without even needing any words. All night they'd shout random things at each other like "Wilson Hall '08" or names like "Danny and Jared's 2012 party." It was as if they were speaking in some kind of code that only the two of them could understand.

As close as he was to his sister, they'd never been like that. He'd never been like that with anyone before and he felt pissed at himself for the unwelcome tightness in his throat.

Octavia was clearly understanding whatever weird nonsense Clarke was saying to her or pointing at in sequence on the board because she stood up and starting squealing.

"You're hands are cold! Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfayden Pride and Prejudice 2005!"

Clarke squealed triumphantly in return.

"Yes, yes yes!"

Bellamy and Lincoln let out simultaneous groans.

"Ha!" O cried out, flipping around towards them, "And that's another point for us!"

Lincoln yawned and waved his hands up in the air in defeat, "That's it. We surrender."

Bellamy joined in bowing his head, "We give up, please show us some mercy."

Clarke laughed and the two girls high-fived eachother. "You trained him well," she complimented O.

Though his sister said it in a whisper, he could have sworn she replied, "So did you."

* * *

Bellamy had luckily been relinquished from his cleaning up duties and he and Clarke were making their way down the now almost empty Seattle streets back to their apartment.

It wasn't raining anymore, but the night was chilly and he could see and hear Clarke shivering as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

"I should have brought a coat," she said more to herself than him.

"We're almost there."

They were walking side by side and she turned to look at him, "You know you didn't have to carry that all the way back."

He stared down at her easel which was now place beneath the crook of his arm. It wasn't heavy, but he could tell he probably looked stupid and was more than thankful that there was practically no one around to see him.

"It's no big deal, I wanted to."

She smiled gratefully and the two walked in companionable silence for a while.

"Interesting crowd tonight, huh?" she commented.

That was the understatement of the century. Improve groups, drummers, art students, and soon to be lawyers. All kinds of people gravitated to the ARK, and he shouldn't have been surprised to find that his sister and Clark had such a diverse group of friends. But there had still been a fair share of sketchy characters.

"I wonder how many drug dealers I unknowingly met tonight."

Clarke shoved his arm, "Oh come on Bellamy."

They'd reached the door to their building and Clarke opened the door and held it out for him to walk through.

He defended himself as they walked up the stairs, "What I'm just saying, sometimes looks can be deceiving. You never know what kind of shady things people could secretly be doing."

They reached the third floor and Clarke opened their door for him to walk through again.

He continued, setting the easel down in the living room, "Hey, it's like your old chemistry TA. Didn't he turn out to be a dealer on the side?"

When she didn't respond he turned to look at her, and was met with a blank expression. She was still standing in the hallway and was blinking as if dazed and confused, trying to process what he just said.

"Clarke?" he asked.

"How did you know about my chem TA?"

He shrugged innocently, "I don't know, you told me about him."

He figured that was the end of that so he plopped down onto the couch and turned on the TV for some mindless drivel before he passed out.

Clarke came over tentatively and sat down next to him, all the way at the opposite end of the couch.

"When?"

"When what?" he said, flipping through the channels and just landing on a replay of the Seahawks game from earlier that week. He'd never been a fan of football, it always seemed boring and ridiculous to him.

"When did I tell you about my chemistry TA?"

He sighed in exasperation. "It was," he started to answer, but stopped himself when he realized he really didn't know. He wracked his mind, but it came up blank. He knew he remembered having the conversation, that was for sure. Her words rang clear in his mind, but nothing else about the situation made sense. When would she have ever told him something like that? He felt inexplicably confident that she had, but he couldn't remember when… and he couldn't remember why.

He turned away from the screen to face her and she was staring at him wide eyed, like she was waiting for an answer, but one he didn't know how to give.

"Geez Clarke I don't know," he was tired and annoyed with his own memory and the words had come out harsher than he'd meant. He saw her recoil and he felt badly about snapping at her so he continued more softly, "Does it really matter?"

She broke his gaze and didn't turn back to look at him, fixing her focus on the TV instead. "No, I guess it doesn't."

But he couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, for reasons unknown to him, it did.

He could tell she was starting to be pissed at him, and he felt completely helpless not knowing what he'd done to offend her. She was still so new to him, so shrouded in secrecy and he had no idea how to reconcile the Clarke Griffin he thought he knew with the real one sitting 3 feet away from him.

He understood now that she wasn't the spoiled 18 year old brat he'd labelled her so long ago. He felt a pit of guilt in his stomach, remembering how harshly he'd judged her and how cruel he'd been to her for so long. Maybe they were both to blame, they'd never really gotten the chance to get to know each other - the only thing they'd ever had in common before being his sister.

But today it'd been like something had clicked inside him. Like he finally saw the first glimpse of the real best friend of his sister's he'd never really acknowledged or bothered to know. He saw the way Octavia was around her. His sister had always been a wild card, and she still had that side to her, of course, but he'd never believed the Octavia he'd grown up with would have ever had the focus and the drive to build a business the way she had.

She'd become responsible, mature even, and a stronger woman than he'd ever have imagine, and something told him that she hadn't gotten there on her entirely on her own. Something told him that part of the reason for her success had undeniably come from Clarke. During their college years he'd missed out on so much of his sister's life, he'd never really realized how much until recently, and while he'd been gone doing his own thing Clarke had been there for his sister every step of the way.

And he'd repaid her by being an asshole.

She was still focused on the screen, and he could feel that she was about to get up and leave soon, and so he decided to finally acknowledge it, and finally swallow his pride.

"I see it now," he said, his throat dry and the words coming out like a croak.

She still didn't turn to face him, but in his periphery he thought he could see her brows peak in curiosity.

"See what?" she asked, and he couldn't place a finger on the emotion in her voice.

He sighed, trying to figure out the right words to say while at the same time knowing they'd probably never be enough.

"I see why my sister loves you. Why she needs you, why the two of you are best friends. I didn't before," he admitted, "But I do now."

She finally looked at him, but he didn't meet her gaze. He knew he should go on, spill out every thought running through his head. Tell her that he'd been a dick, that he felt guilty for practically leaving his sister alone for years. That he hated the fact that he didn't know anything about almost 8 years of her life. Tell her that he felt guilty for never giving Clarke a chance, for hanging on to that stupid stereotype, and for treating her in a way she'd never really deserved.

But he couldn't say all those things, not yet.

He turned to meet her eyes, and even though her face was devoid of emotion, he felt as if behind her eyes he could see her thoughts running just like his, at a thousand miles a minute.

"Clarke?"

He paused. She waited.

"Thank you."

She turned back to face the screen, and Bellamy inwardly winced at the disappointment he felt in the pit of his stomach. It hadn't been enough, of course it hadn't, how could it be?

But his thoughts were interrupted when she reached out and lightly squeezed his hand that he hadn't even noticed he'd been clenching.

She met his eyes and it was if some kind of unspoken understanding passed between them.

"You're welcome." She'd said it no louder than just above a whisper, but Bellamy heard it as clear as day. She squeezed his hand for a second longer before returning hers to her lap. He looked down at the space where her hand had been just a moment ago, and realized his gripped had relaxed and as had the tension he'd been feeling in his chest for the greater part of the evening.

They sat in silence for some minutes more before Clarke got up and left, leaving him with a quiet, "Good Night."

He sat and stared at the screen until he felt his lids starting to weigh down, unable to keep them open for much longer.

He retreated back to his room and collapsed onto the bed.

_Thank You._

_You're Welcome._

It wasn't enough.

But it was a start.

* * *

**A/N : **Whaaat? Two updates in one day?! I couldn't help myself, the words just kept flowing onto the page and I didn't want to stop. I figured it'd be pointless to wait to post this anyways... think of it as my way of making up for being a less than consistent updater so far :/ But anyhow, I think this chapter has definitely been my favourite to write thus far :) I really wanted to try to make Bellamy's "Shit, I've been a total dick haven't I?" realization to come as naturally as possible, and I tried to keep the progression of his emotions as realistic as I could. Of course this is still a slow burn, but the flames starting guys, and I'm pretty freaking excited about it.

Hope you liked this one just as much as I enjoyed writing it!


	12. Chapter 12 - Domestication

**A/N : **Before we get on with the chapter I wanted to give a huge disgustingly mushy shout out to every single person who's keeping up with this story in whatever way you are. Since my last update this story got to over 300 follows and that just honestly made my week. That is way more people than I was expecting when I started this way back in March, and I'm just so happy you guys found something here you enjoy :) To everyone who reads, follows, and reviews this story... you guys are all the best :D Ok that's enough of that... now on with the Bellarke :)

* * *

Domestication

Clarke stood at the front of Kent St. Grocery waiting for her roommate to arrive. Her roommate that, to her chagrin, was late.

They'd been texting sporadically back and forth all the day, trying to plan out a decent time that they could meet after work. _Technically_ they didn't have to go together, but after a week of buying doubles they'd finally decided they might as well just be efficient and get things done in one fell swoop.

To be honest Clarke didn't have much time for cooking or even a knack for it, but she refused to be one of those people who spent her entire life living off of takeout menus. Bellamy on the other hand was apparently a fucking culinary mastermind. She never would have guessed and to her embarrassment she'd been caught eyeing his left overs in the fridge on more occasions than one.

"You know if you asked I could just make enough for two?" he'd said startling her so that she let out an undignified yelp.

She frowned at the memory, remembering how she'd said no. It seemed too domestic, too comfortable, but he'd told her to stop being stubborn. So that's how they'd come to the agreement that'd they'd swap their food duties weekly. It seemed like a pretty good deal to Clarke, but she'd conveniently failed to disclose that her idea of a main course was a homemade version of mac and cheese. Whoops.

If she didn't know any better she'd say Bellamy was almost warming up to her, getting used to their situation. This week had been considerably less hostile than the last, and if she hadn't lived through it she never would have believed the fact that the two of them were almost acting like… friends.

The only thing she hadn't been able to wrap her mind around was whether or not he remembered that night… he certainly sounded like he did, but the look on his face when she'd questioned him about it betrayed no signs of recognition.

At the end of the day she supposed it was for the best. They were starting fresh, and despite anyone's expectations, that seemed to be working for them.

She glanced down at her phone, seeing it hit 6:32. He was already late, and she tried her best not to be too peeved.

_Bellamy you're late,_ she typed. She got a reply almost instantly.

_Maybe you're just early. How did you even get there so fast, we got off at the same time?_

He'd texted her right when he was leaving work, and it had coincidentally been the same time she left the hospital.

_It's called public transportation, heard of it? I hear it's supposed to be the next big thing!_ She fired back, lacing her words with sarcasm.

_No, but I have heard of this thing called walking and exercise – that one ring a bell for you Princess?_

* * *

A few minutes later he strode in looking worse for wear. His jacket was open, and his curls were sticking out in every direction like he'd been running his hands through them in frustration all day. He spotted her immediately and walked over to where she was standing.

"I thought we said 6:30," she blurted the words out before she could stop herself.

He rolled his eyes, but she could tell that there really wasn't any malice behind it.

"It's 6:40 Clarke are you really making a deal out of this?"

"No," she shot back innocently, "I just thought I'd remind you."

"Well consider it noted. Now can we get this over with?"

"We could have been getting it over with 10 minutes ago," she muttered under her breath.

"I heard that," he grumbled and she flashed him a teasing smile.

"I know."

A moment later she looked at him more closely and noticed the way the lines in his face seemed to be set deeper than usual, the darkness under his eyes looking like bruises.

"Long day?" she asked, even though she was pretty sure she knew what his answer would be.

He grabbed a cart and started walking; she fell in to step next to him.

"You have no idea."

"Kids or adults?" she questioned, hinting back at the similar conversation they'd had a week ago.

His lip turned up into a small knowing grin, "Adults. You ever sat in on a PTA meeting before?"

"Can't say that I have."

"Consider yourself lucky," and he said it so gravely she couldn't help but snort. "I'm serious. You know sometimes I wonder about how teenage girls happen... and then I spend two hours listening to their mothers and it all of a sudden makes perfect sense."

She chuckled, but on the inside she thought back to her own high school days. Abby Griffin hadn't just been on the PTA, she'd somehow managed to squeeze in the time to be its chair. If Bellamy thought these women were bad, she would have paid to see his reaction to an Abigail Griffin arranged meeting.

She dispelled all thoughts of her mother from her head and she focused instead on the grocery list she'd fished out of her pocket. Clarke hated wasting time, mainly because she didn't have much of it in the first place. She wanted to get in, grab what she needed, and get out. There was no way she would be able to do that without planning everything out to a tee.

She paused when she noticed Bellamy's eyes boring into her neck.

"What?" she asked defensively when she noticed the mocking glint in his eyes.

"Nothing, it's just that that list looks more detailed than half the essay outlines I see from my seniors."

"Is that a compliment or an insult?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, "Consider it an observation."

Her insides stilled and she couldn't help but remember the last time he'd made unsolicited observations about her, but… she was curious to see what other conclusions he'd drawn.

"Oh? Enlighten me then, what other observations have you made?"

He smirked, but then knit his brows together as if he was actually in serious deliberation. After a moment he came to his conclusion.

"You're a control freak."

She scoffed, "Wanting to be organized and have my life together does not make me a control freak," but even she knew what she was saying was complete and total BS.

"Maybe not, but freaking out the moment things go wrong does. What exactly do you think will happen if you just stop trying to control every variable in your life?"

She was slightly taken aback; this was way too deep of a conversation to be having in front of yogurt. She didn't need to think about what would happen, because she already knew. Her entire world had been thrown off kilter twice in her life, the first time with her father and the second time with Wells. And she certainly didn't need to tell him that.

"Chaos," she whispered, fighting against the lump she'd been hoping wouldn't tighten her throat.

His tone was teasing, but his voice was soft. His words were different than the one's he'd said to her 8 years ago, but somehow their message and the way they felt was exactly the same.

"What's wrong with a little chaos?"

_Everything_, she thought, but didn't say aloud. Instead she simply pursed her lips and refocused on her list. She heard him sigh, but she didn't waver in her resolve, letting the silence settle in between them like a fog.

* * *

They were almost finished, with Clarke's list at least. Bellamy hadn't bothered to write anything down so she had no idea what he was thinking. He'd throw things into the cart without rhyme or reason and she stopped trying to figure out if there was any method to his madness.

Luckily the conversation hadn't strayed back to any unpleasant topics; in fact their most scintillating discussion since had been about produce.

"So I thought you had to work tonight," he pointed out while they stood in the cereal aisle.

"Murphy offered to cover my shift for me," and the worlds felt no stranger coming out of her mouth than they had when she'd first heard them from his 12 hours earlier.

Bellamy raised a brow, "That seems uncharacteristically generous of him…"

"Yeah it does," she agreed, "But it's Murphy, I'm sure it comes with strings. I was too surprised to even question it, but I've no doubt he'll find me tomorrow and milk his act of kindness for all he can."

Bellamy snorted, carelessly picking up a box of granola bars and tossing it into the cart. She on the other hand stood in front of the wall of options struggling to make up her mind.

She hated the nature valley ones… you could lose a tooth off trying to bite through one of those, and trail mix was overrated. But she still wanted to be healthy…

She hadn't noticed Bellamy peering at her curiously until he piped up, "Has anyone ever told you that you have serious decision making issues?"

She rolled her eyes, not responding to his jab and continued to think.

She heard him mutter something unintelligible under his breath, something along the lines of "For fuck's sake" and the next thing she knew he grabbed two boxes off the shelf and before she even got a look at them he tossed them into the cart.

"Hey," she chided, trying to sneak around and removed them, but she was blocked by his unmovable arm stretched out in front of her.

"Oh no you don't. No more deliberating, I chose for you."

She huffed in exasperation when she realized her attempts at budging him were more than just futile, they were embarrassing. _Damn him_, she thought. _Damn him and his biceps._

"Bellamy this is ridiculous."

"Is it?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes, "How do you even know which ones I want?"

He looked at her with an expression she couldn't name and only afterwards did she realize it was the look of confidence that comes when you know you're about to prove someone wrong.

"Because," he started, "last week you just about almost broke your tooth off that nature valley one, complained that you had some sort of personal vendetta against trail mix and deemed healthy granola bars a crime against humanity. So…," he picked up the boxes and showed them to her, "S'mores and Rocky Road, does that meet your standards Princess?"

She looked at him curiously while something inside of her fluttered unfamiliarly. She grinned up at him with a slight teasing lilt to her tone, "Never would have pegged you as someone who paid so much attention Bellamy."

He coughed and for a moment he almost looked embarrassed, "Yes well your incessant chatter is hard to ignore."

And so because she couldn't keep it in any longer she let out a laugh, realizing the ridiculousness of their entire situation. Bantering in the cereal aisle… of course they were. What else should she have expected from a grocery trip with Bellamy Blake?

"Fair enough," she admitted. She looked back down at the list in her hands and decided that perhaps she'd had enough of being in control… for tonight at least.

She walked away and tossed it into the nearby garbage can before returning to a proud looking Bellamy.

"Well thank god, because in a second or two I thought you were going to give yourself an aneurysm and I sure as hell wasn't dragging your ass to the hospital."

She laughed and shoved playfully his arm, "Oh shut up."

He chuckled and already began rolling the cart away.

"You know that's not how get an aneurysm right?" she called after him, attracting a few furtive stares from the nearby shoppers.

"Whatever you say Doc" he called back, and she rolled her eyes before hurrying back over to his side.

* * *

It was only once they were at the checkout that Clarke realized it probably would have been a better idea to use two carts.

The clerk looked between the two of them, waiting for payment, while they stood at the cart figuring out how to separate all this.

As if Bellamy was living through the annoyance that it would be to separate it all out he grimaced up at her, "Split it 50/50?"

She nodded, "Oh god yes please."

He chuckled and 5 minutes later they were finally ready to leave.

They stepped outside the store and were annoyed, but unsurprised to find that what had been a previously cool but dry Seattle night had turned into a torrential downpour. _Typical_, she thought at the same time Bellamy voiced that exact same sentiment.

"Crap," she breathed, already feeling goosebumps appearing on her skin.

"It's your call Princess, do we call a cab?"

She shook her head, "There's a bus shelter at the intersection, and we're going to run for it."

He laughed, "Fine, but just remember this was your decision."

With that he took off into the rain and she after him. It took her less than a couple seconds to get soaked to the core and by the time she reached him at the bus shelter, they were both drenched.

He was wiping furiously at his forehead trying to free his eyes from the curtain of his damp curls. She snorted watching him struggle and set the bags down and attempted to (unsuccessfully) wring out her own hair.

"Great idea Princess," he said sarcastically but without hostility.

"Hey you're the one who told me I should look into this whole walking and exercise thing."

He smirked, pushing his hair back so that it was as much off his face as he could get it, only a few damp curls clinging to his cheeks.

"I guess I am."

She didn't know what really precipitated the thought, but in that moment she was struck with the inconvenient realization that Bellamy Blake really was easy to look at. Not just hot, and not a simple kind of beauty that was easy to ogle at on billboards and magazines, but in the way that the longer you stared, the more details you would find and the easier it became for it to take your breath away.

She'd never been delusional enough to convince herself that Octavia's brother wasn't attractive. Obviously there were things about his personality she'd found less than desirable, but from an objective physical standpoint even she couldn't deny that he was good looking, but that'd never really mattered to her before. It was just somewhat of an inconsequential fact, one she could push to the back of her mind, but standing here alone with him when they were both soaking wet… somehow that observation was pushed front and centre.

She looked away, scolding herself for gaping at him like an idiot. _Smooth Clarke_, she thought with annoyance, _Real smooth, now he thinks you're a creep_, but to her surprise he didn't seem to notice.

Hmm, she thought, serves him right though. After all he'd been the one who'd been burning his eyes into her a week earlier. This was definitely not nearly as bad.

"Well you sure picked a hell of a time to start taking my advice," he noted.

She attempted to shoot him a deadpan stare, but she started shivering and it probably ended up looking more like she was convulsing.

He frowned, and leaned down to pick something out from one of the bags.

"I figured this would be more useful dry," he said and lifted his rain free jacket from the bag and draped it around her shoulders, standing closer to her than he had been before.

It was still warm from his body heat and the relief she felt as she snuggled her arms into its comically large sleeves was immediate.

She laughed and did a little pose, almost whipping him with her sleeve.

She thought she heard the sound of voices, a couple perhaps joining them underneath the bus shelter.

"So, who wears it better?"

He groaned and opened his mouth to say something when an all too familiar voice cut him off. A voice that dispelled any of the warmth she felt from Bellamy's coat and hit her like a punch to the stomach.

"Clarke?"

She didn't need to look to see who it was, knowing perfectly well now who the couple standing just a few feet away from them was.

Turning around was the last thing her mind, body, and heart wanted to do, but she did it anyway and sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of brown haired man in front of her.

She tried to keep her voice cold and firm, but on the inside she felt barely a millimeter tall.

"Finn."

And he returned her downturned gaze with a smile.

* * *

It didn't take Bellamy long to realize that this Finn guy wasn't just a friend or some long lost acquaintance. He opened his arms as if to step in and give Clarke a hug, but from the way Clarke took a step back and the murderous glare the woman next to him pierced him with, it was safe to say he figured that was a bad idea.

Bellamy had no idea what he'd just happened to walk into, but at this point the tension between the three of them was so thick he could cut it with a knife.

Clarke was standing next to him, and the only part of her expression he could make out was her profile. She was stiff as a rod and her arms were crossed tightly across her chest and it looked like she had started shivering all over again. But the look on her face was what interested him… it wasn't anger, or hatred, or any other negative emotion he'd expect from someone running into an ex (at least he assumed this Finn was her ex). Instead her eyes were fixed on the girl next to Finn, the gorgeous brunette who was perceptibly pregnant. That look too wasn't jealousy, instead it was shame, and for the life of him Bellamy could not figure out what was running through her mind.

"How have you been?" he asked lightly and Bellamy found himself holding his breath to see how she'd answer.

"I've been good," she said softly, and Bellamy frowned down at her. Since when did Clarke say anything without confidence?

She must have noticed him staring her because she met his frown with an unreadable expression of her own. As if noticing him for the first time, Finn and the brunette stared in his direction too.

Clarke decided to do the awkward introductions, "Bellamy, this is Finn and his wife Raven."

Finn frowned, not tearing his eyes away from Bellamy's. "Who's he," he asked with indignation and Bellamy wondered who the hell this guy thought he was to warrant speaking to him like he was a piece of filth. Clearly he wasn't the only one who was taken aback by Finn's hostility, because his own wife looked at him with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

Bellamy shifted so he was slightly closer to Clarke. He had no interest in exchanging niceties with the guy, but figured Clarke would scold him for being rude so he extended his hand. The other man grabbed it tentatively and Bellamy squeezed harder than was necessary.

"Like she _just_ said, I'm Bellamy."

Finn tore his hand from Bellamy's gaze and stared at him suspiciously like he was trying to both size him up and figure if he could take him. Bellamy almost wanted to see him try the latter.

Finn fixed his gaze back on Clarke, "How do you two know each other?"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw bits of the Clarke he knew return, and he almost smirked when he saw her roll her eyes.

"We're friends Finn."

As soon as she said that Finn's brows furrowed and he stared at Clarke with a mix of hurt, anger, and betrayal. He stared at her like she owed him something.

Bellamy didn't like the way he was looking at her. He didn't like the way he seemed to be ignoring his pregnant wife who was now looking like she was just about ready to rip her husband's head off. And he most certainly didn't like the way this complete stranger was looking at him like he was superior; looking at him with a challenge.

In that moment all Bellamy wanted to do was wipe all of those looks from his face.

_Well_, he thought,_ challenge accepted._

He flashed a smile at Finn and his wife and stepped closer to Clarke, "Actually we live together." He wrapped his arm around her waist and gave her what he hoped was a comforting squeeze. He felt her still beneath his touch and her shivering stop, but luckily she didn't whip her head around to face him in shock. It was as if she knew what he was trying to do, and he felt a twinge of pride when she went along with it. Instead her face broke out into a smile; one he almost believed was genuine.

He looked at Finn and smirked and from the look on his face Bellamy knew he'd been successful and that his imagination was going to places far less innocent than just platonic roommates.

Finn's wife Raven finally tore her murderous stare, one that if he was being honest almost rivaled Clarke's, away from her husband and fixed it on Clarke; her eyes softened when they met the girl's.

"That's really great Clarke, you look really good, really happy too. Doesn't she Finn?"

But Finn didn't respond, but he kept his eyes boring into Clarke's.

Raven's stare now looked more hurt than angered, and Bellamy couldn't believe that this guy actually had the nerve to act the way he was right in front of her. What was worse was that Bellamy felt that both he and Raven knew that if they weren't there right now, this conversation would be taking an entirely different turn.

Clarke peeled her gaze away from Finn and shot Raven a look of gratitude and something else he still couldn't quite name. Even though it didn't make any sense to him, he could have sworn that look was an apology.

Lucky for them all in that moment a bus pulled up to the shelter. Finn and Raven stood in place, and this clearly wasn't their ride, but Bellamy would be damned if they had to wait here a second longer with the two of them.

In a flash he picked up all their bags with both hands and gestured at Clarke.

"Come on Princess," he saw Finn's face go red, "It's about time we went home."

She looked at the couple for a moment longer before following Bellamy onto the bus.

* * *

Though they'd been practically the only ones at the shelter, the bus itself was full and they just managed to find two seats next together near the back. Their damp grocery bags were resting on their laps. Clarke took the window seat and sat there in silence until they started moving and left the shelter behind.

They didn't say anything to each other for a few minutes until she let out a sigh and turned to face him. It was almost imperceptible, but he could make out the slightest touch of wetness on her cheeks and a faint redness rimming her eyes. He didn't say anything, and pretended for the both of them that it was just the rain.

"You didn't have to do that you know?" she whispered.

Her voice was still quiet and distant, the way it'd been when she first spoke to Finn, and there was something so unClarke about it that it unsettled him.

"I know," he stated plainly, "but I wanted to." It was the truth. He'd gleaned more than enough satisfaction from the look on that asshole's face to warrant it. Something felt off about that guy, and Bellamy was pretty sure he knew what it was. It was the fact that he was staring at Clarke like she was his, and the fact that he was practically fucking her with his eyes all the while his wife stood less than a foot away. He didn't know what kind of person had the gall to do that, but it wasn't someone Bellamy liked.

She stared at him for a second longer before turning back to look out the window.

Not wanting her to shut him out completely he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

She sighed, "Not really, no."

"I'm not going to force you. But it might make you feel better."

She shook her head, "I don't deserve to feel better."

He practically couldn't believe the words he was hearing, and if she didn't snap out of whatever the hell this was he was going to lose it.

"Clarke, don't give me that self deprecating bullshit."

She flipped back towards him and glared, "Well if you seem to understand what that was so well then why don't you talk about it."

He widened his eyes, taken aback. He didn't know what her problem was but if that's what she wanted then, "Fine. I will. Let's start with Finn."

Her furious expression morphed into a wince and he knew he'd hit a nerve.

"Ex boyfriend?" He asked, even though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

She tightened her lips and that was all the affirmation he neeed.

"How long were you together?"

"6 months," she said like getting the words out was physically painful, "We broke up last year. We'd actually been talking about moving in for a while before we ended things, but that never went anywhere." She scoffed bitterly, "I guess now I know why,"

He got the sense that she was loosening up so he raised a brow, wanting her to continue.

She sighed as if resigning herself to the fact that she might as well tell him the full story.

"We met at the Ark. O hired Finn to help with the remodel. His company does handmade furniture and other interior design stuff. Anyways we met, hit it off, and pretty much started seeing each other regularly after that."

"So… What happened?"

"Nothing really. Except for the fact that one night Raven caught us at his workshop and I found out that my boyfriend wasn't really mine. He was someone else's."

Bellamy felt anger bubble within him as the pieces of the baffling encounter he'd just had finally fell together with perfect clarity. The whole thing felt so wrong to him, and he couldn't believe she'd actually gone through something like that.

"Don't look at me like that." she snapped.

"Like what?" he asked innocently.

"With pity. I don't want you to pity me."

She wouldn't meet his gaze and instead she glued her eyes to the seat in front of her. For not the first time since she'd moved in, Bellamy got the sense that when it came to Clarke Griffin and her life, he really was completely in the dark.

"Clarke… It's not your fault."

She shook her head, "Maybe not completely… but it is partly mine."

Now it was his turn to shake his head, more fiercely than she had. "Did you know?"

"Know what?"

"Did you know he had a wife when you were together?"

"Of course not!"

"Then it's not your fault!" He raised his voice as if that'd help her see logic, but all it accomplished was prompting the person in the seat in front of them to whip around and shoot Bellamy a pissed off glare.

He lowered his voice and continued, "You have absolutely no reason to feel guilty."

She pressed her lips together and sighed, "Have you ever directly caused someone pain Bellamy? Or unhappiness?"

He thought back to some of the fights he'd had back in high school.

"Uhh.. Maybe once or twice."

She let out a small laugh, "Not the physical kind. I mean have you ever done something to someone, something so bad, that you alone were the direct cause of their hurt. That you were responsible for their heartache."

He thought back to some of the breakups he'd had over the years. Sure some of them had been more dramatic and others, but could he really say him or his ex were heartbroken? Bellamy had only lived through true heartbreak once in his life, and that had been he and Octavia had lost their mom.

When he didn't respond Clarke continued, "That was what I did to Raven. It doesn't matter that Finn didn't tell me or that I didn't know. It doesn't matter whether I never meant to hurt her, how could I have when I didn't even know she existed? The intention doesn't matter because at the end of the day the result was the same. If it weren't for me she never would have gone through that. So yes, I know it's not my fault, but that doesn't change the fact that I still feel guilty and that another human being's pain is on my hands."

He let her finish, staring at her the whole time, and becoming painfully aware of the fact that anything he said would be inadequate.

"What about your pain?" he asked, "You can't really believe Raven is the only one wronged here."

She shrugged, "I take comfort in knowing that Finn gets to feel responsible for hurting the both of us."

Bellamy didn't really believe that a guy who was capable of cheating on his wife and lying to an unsuspecting girl was really capable of feeling bad, but he chose to keep that comment to himself.

"You really must hate him huh? Fuck I don't even know him and I hate him."

She sighed, "I did for a while, until I realized that I didn't really hate him… I just hate what he made me. I never wanted to be that person, the "other woman" I guess you could say. I told myself I'd never be that person."

And in that moment, despite the fact that Clarke believed herself to be unforgivable, Bellamy realized that she was a better person than he could ever hope to be.

"And she was his girlfriend at the time, just by the way. Not his wife. I know it doesn't make it any better, not really, but still."

Now that took him off guard.

"He cheated on her and she still married him? That's completely fucked up."

She looked out the window. The sun had set by now, and all he could see out of it were the neon signs as they blurred past in the darkness.

"Maybe," she said thoughtfully, "Or maybe you just can't help who you love."

He shook his head. Maybe he just hadn't experienced that kind of love before, the kind that was unconditional, but that didn't seem right to him. If someone betrayed the one they love like that… Bellamy didn't even see how you could keep on loving them. How things could ever be the same.

She distracted him from his thoughts, "Thank you by the way. For doing what you did… even though like I said you didn't have to."

"Don't thank me. But, there is something you can do to make it up to me."

She faced him with a curious look in her eye, "What's that?"

"Next time you see that asshole you do not let him treat you like that. Like he has any power over you. Next time you see him… Give him hell."

She looked at him with her brow raised until the stony impassive expression she'd been wearing since the bus stop broke into a sly smile.

Bellamy frowned, "I'm serious Clarke."

"I know you are, and something tells me you really think he deserves more than just a piece of my mind."

He smirked, "A piece of someone's fist wouldn't hurt either."

She laughed, "I'll keep that in mind."

A silence fell between them again, but the nature of it felt different than before. More comfortable and easy which to be honest gave him relief. Bellamy wasn't good with these kinds of situations. The whole encounter had been far out of his comfort zone.

"Hey Bellamy."

"Mmm?"

She looked outside again, and around the rest of their surroundings.

"Were not on the right bus are we?"

_Oh fuck_. He'd forgotten about that.

"Shit."

He expected her to freak out and yell but instead she just lost her composure and laughed, Bellamy following suit as well.

He started picking up their bags, ready to stand up.

"Do you want to get off?" He asked when she'd calmed down.

She looked at him earnestly and shook her head.

"Not yet… ok?"

He nodded and leaned his head back on the seat, "Whenever you're ready."

They rode in companionable silence until Clarke's control freak tendencies got the best of her and she insisted they get off before they wound up in Tacoma. He had to admit she'd lasted longer than he'd expected.

But by that point Bellamy didn't even mind that she was back to being a pain in the ass because all it meant was that she was back to normal and any thoughts about worthless ex boyfriends were forgotten for the night.

* * *

**A/N 2 : **So Finn's entered the story and I'm betting not too many people are overly thrilled about that. To be honest I'm not planning on making him a major fixture in the plot. I see him popping up one more time and that's about it, so don't worry too much about that! I actually really like how this chapter turned out, especially the second half. It wasn't as light hearted as some of the other things I've written, but I think it's important to get a little change of pace from the banter and delve into some deeper stuff too.

Anyways, as always I love hearing what you guys think and I hope you liked the update! :)


	13. Chapter 13 - Intruder Alert

**A/N : **Hey guys so I've become aware of the fact that I seriously suck at replying to your reviews which is really shitty on my part, but I'm going to try to be better at it! (I do read and appreciate every single one of them, and I usually formulate some sort of reply in my brain but I just never get around to doing it...) SO I wanted to take a quick second to respond to some of the guest reviews I've been seeing :) (But I only stuck to the reviews that were left on chapter 12 to keep things short and sweet)

Wright : I don't want to give too much away on the Murphy front because if all goes to plan you'll find that out not next chapter, but the one after that, but I will say that he is not homeless. (Remember earlier when he offered Clarke to come and move in with him? That'd be kind of a dick offer to make if his apartment was the hospital on call room LOL) but good guess! I figured that's what a lot of people would assume. I also feel you on Finn. I never loved him, but still felt bad when he died and in terms of Lexa I think she's a complex character, but definitely not my favourite which is why I haven't really bothered including her in the story too much and probably won't in the near future. Thanks for always reviewing :)

alic0nxtgious : Oh my gosh I seriously love that you check for this story in your bookmarks that makes me so happy! But also super guilty because of the fact that you're probably usually disappointed when you find no new updates GAH sorry about that! I do the best I can but thank you so much for keeping up with the story :)

alison : I read your comment and it honestly made my day. That's the kind of thing I really need and love to hear sometimes, because really that's been my main goal with this story. Sometimes I'm just super tempted to get these two crazy kids to make out and be adorable and fluffy together, but for my own satisfaction I'm trying to stay true to their characters. You wouldn't believe how many times I question their thoughts and actions and ask myself, "Is that too mushy? Is that what Bellamy would really think? so hearing you say it's believable is the kind of reassurance I really need so thank you :)

ali : Hearing you say that it's realistic and you can picture the scenes perfectly is honestly such a huge compliment. I don't know, I feel like it (having descriptions of things like facial expressions and such) just makes things more interesting and easier to read in a way? I'm glad to hear I'm not doing a completely shitty job with that LOL. Thanks so much for your review! :)

Guest : Thank you so much! I'm super excited to write more Murphy/Clarke time soon too. Their friendship (slash hateship?) is so fun to write, but it's definitely about to get more complex soon...

Samicawrites : That's so nice of you to say! I hope the update doesn't disappoint even though it's a bit of a shorter one!

_Now onto the update! _

* * *

Intruder Alert

On Tuesday morning, Clarke Griffin slept in and at the risk of sounding slightly self absorbed, she thought she damn well deserved it.

She'd run herself dry at the hospital by taking as many shifts as she could and badgering Dr. Kane to let her scrub in on practically every surgery he had. To say she'd annoyed him would be an understatement, but she didn't care. After the unfortunate run in with a certain lying cheating bastard of an ex the last thing Clarke wanted was free time.

It was only once the bruises beneath her eyes started freaking out the patients, a particularly peachy old woman dubbing her appearance "corpse-like" and "uncomfortable" did Dr. Kane have the sense to all but threaten to fire her if she didn't slow down and take a day off. She'd protested of course, but eventually gave in. She expected to spend the whole day running errands and doing all kinds of other things to distract herself, but the second her head had hit the pillow she figured maybe she really did need to take it easy or in Bellamy's words, "learn to relax."

And so that's how Clarke wound up curled up in bed at 11:30 and for once not feeling the slightest bit of guilt at doing so. She reached over to check her phone and scrolled through her messages, skimming over a couple texts from Octavia, Murphy, and the surprising latest addition to her frequent texter list… Bellamy.

_Left the door unlocked when I left today, my friend was supposed to come at 9 to fix the heat and I told him if he wanted to walk away with his life he'd be better off not waking you up._

The message had been sent at 7:30 with another one following suit shortly after.

_And if you wake up early on your day off I speak for all the working adults in America when I say we hate you._

Clarke snorted and rolled her eyes before replying.

_I made it till 11:30, is America satisfied?_

She knew he had a class so she wasn't expecting a reply, but less than 5 minutes later after she'd gotten out of bed and brushed her face and teeth in the washroom, she saw the screen light up again in her periphery.

_Surprised. I didn't think you had it in you, colour me impressed._

She wondered what he was doing sitting on his phone while he was supposed to be teaching and asked him as much.

_Texting in class? Not exactly what I'd call model teacher behaviour…._

_Well then it's a good thing you're not here to give me detention._

_Consider yourself lucky._

_Princess, I consider myself and anyone else who didn't have the misfortune of being under your discipline to be lucky._

She scowled and fired back an unimpressed emoji and got out of bed to start making breakfast, or she supposed lunch would probably be more fitting, but she found herself pausing to check her phone once more.

_So what are Clarke Griffin's big exciting plans for her day off?_

_I was planning on doing some indulging and relaxing with a dash of world takeover on the side._

_Only a dash?_

She was glad that she couldn't see her reflection on the screen of her phone for if she had she'd be more than a little embarrassed at the sight of herself grinning like an absolute idiot.

_For now._

Clarke put her phone down on the table and walked over to inspect the contents of their fridge. Though it was well established that her cooking skills were limited at best, making breakfast was the one department she'd never slacked in. She started up the coffee machine and laid out eggs, and a variety of vegetables out on the counter for a Frittata.

_Consider myself adequately afraid._ Was the reply she saw light up her screen, and she laughed aloud.

Despite Bellamy's penchant for eye rolling and annoyed growls he was surprisingly a good texter and even though she'd never have believed it weeks ago, she found herself enjoying their flares of sarcastic banter.

Obviously she couldn't talk to him as openly as she could Octavia or her old university friends, but after the incident with Finn last week she almost didn't want to. She'd shown him a side of herself that she wasn't proud of, a side that she hated to bring out. Because the truth of the matter was no matter how strong she pretended to be, on the inside Clarke Griffin was just another pathetic girl who'd had her heartbroken. And now Bellamy Blake of all people was part of the small group of people in the world who knew that.

Remembering the feeling of seeing Finn made her want to cry and vomit at the same time, although she had to admit it hurt less this time then the one time she'd spotted him across the street a few months ago. Maybe that was because of the shock, or maybe it was because she hadn't been alone to face him, but whatever it was she thanked the breakup gods that he at least hadn't seen her cry this time.

She also thanked whatever roommate gods were up there that even though Bellamy had seen her at arguably her lowest point, he'd had the decency not to bring it up since. Though she was thankful for his discretion, Clarke really did not have a fucking clue what to make of it. Over the past few weeks it seemed like they'd both had the unsettling task of reworking their ideas and impressions of the other, but to her exasperation her image of Bellamy Blake was grayer than ever.

_As you should be_, she replied and set off to making her breakfast, turning on some Taylor Swift and jamming out in the process.

She was in the middle of slicing up a pepper when in the back of her mind she thought she heard the front door opening, but she was in the middle of butchering Bad Blood so she soon forgot it.

She jumped and the knife sliced down and slipped from her fingers when the music was cut off and the apartment was jolted into silence.

She whipped around, picking the knife back up and faced the intruder and when she saw who it was her stomach dropped, but instead of shrinking into herself like last time she felt her blood boil.

"What the fuck are you doing here Finn?"

Her ex boyfriend was standing next to the kitchen table where she'd flung her phone that was now in his hands. He put those hands up defensively and set the phone down, frowning at whatever it was he saw on the screen.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said slowly and took a step closer.

"Bullshit you didn't mean to scare me," she spat out, "You sneak up behind me and break into my apartment, what the fuck did you think I was going to do? Welcome you with open arms?"

A playful smirk crossed his face, one that used to make her powerless and weak in the knees, but now she just wanted to wipe it off.

"Your door was open, this hardly counts as a felony."

She let out what could best be described as a snarl. _Yeah well me stabbing you sure will be_, she thought.

He took notice of her knife that she was still gripping onto like a life-line in her right hand.

His smirk remained while he asked, "Are you going to put the knife down now?", mockery practically dripping from his voice.

Clarke sighed in exasperation, her heartbeat that previously felt like it was about to pound right out of her chest was slowly returning to it's normal rhythm. Her breathing might have been settling back down, but every muscle in her body still felt tense. She didn't set the knife down, just brought it down next to her thigh.

"What do you want Finn?"

His face turned serious, "I just want to talk to you."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "You could have called."

To her irritation that idea seemed to amuse him. "Right," he scoffed, "Like you would have taken my call or even listened to my message. I know you Clarke."

_I know you_. Those three words were enough to make her feel like the knife in her hand was plummeting into her own chest and with every passing second her confidence wavered.

"Fine," she huffed, "You want to talk so talk."

He started to come closer but she shot him as lethal a glare as she could manage that effectively screamed _Don't even think about it_. She let out an internal sigh of relief when she saw him stay put.

He glanced down at her phone which she could tell had lit up with a couple more messages and from the look of disgust on Finn's face, Clarke had no trouble piecing together who it was from.

"So are you really living with this Bellamy guy?"

Clarke rolled her eyes, of course that's what he would ask. Typical possessive Finn. While something like that would have annoyed her the reasonable amount while they were dating, now it simply made her livid. Who the hell did he think he was asking her something like that, and what right did he have to be jealous? He wasn't hers anymore and she certainly wasn't his. He'd made sure of that.

"You have no right to ask me that."

He looked down at his shoes, and crestfallen was the only word to describe the expression on his face.

"I know I don't, he whispered and let out a sigh of frustration, "I know I don't but I can't help it! Clarke please, you have to know that I still care about you."

She felt a lump form in her throat. How many times had the worst, most vile and inexcusable parts of her wanted to hear these exact words from him? How many months ago would she have given anything to hear him say this? How many nights, if it hadn't been for Octavia prying the phone from her fingertips, would she have taken his calls just to hear his confession from the other end of the line?

How many times would she have gone back to him?

But she was stronger than those parts of her… she was stronger than her weakness. She had to be.

"That's a load of crap and you know it Finn."

Anger and desperation flashed in his eyes as he edged closer to her.

"It's not crap! I care about you. I always have. God Clarke this past year has killed me inside." His voice softened before he continued, "Can't you see I'm still in love with you."

She sucked in a sharp breath, his words feeling worse than any punch to the stomach.

"I don't want to hear that," she said through gritted teeth.

"Clarke," he pleaded, "I don't want you to be mad at me anymore, I just want to talk to you. I just, god I just need you to talk to me again."

She put the knife down on the counter behind her and rolled her eyes, "Well that's just too fucking bad Finn because the last thing I want to do is talk to you."

He stepped closer, so close that there was less than an arms width between them and she suddenly felt painfully aware of the fact that she was just in a tank top and pajama pants Octavia had give her for christmas with cartoon stethoscopes on them.

"I don't believe that," he said, and she tried to look anywhere except his eyes. "And you want to know what else I think?"

_Not particularly_, she thought, but at this point she no longer trusted herself to use her voice.

"I think that you still care about me."

All she could manage was to shake her head, but the confidence she'd been wearing just moments ago was already starting to waver. It wasn't fair, none of this was fair. He didn't have any right to still have this affect on her. _Damn it_, she thought. She'd been fine. She'd been perfectly fine. She hadn't thought about him in months, she'd been distracted with work, and moving, and Bellamy. She'd been fine before any of this happened, and now she was right back to where she started.

His hand came up to caress her cheek. It was cold, but soft, just like she remembered and her lips slightly parted involuntarily as if from muscle memory. Her brain was screaming a thousand things at her, but despite it all she felt rooted in place.

He brought his forehead to rest against hers and something turned in her stomach. She remembered this feeling so well, but it didn't feel right. She didn't feel safe anymore, and she shut her eyes tight, trying to transport herself to some place far away from here.

"I've missed you _Princess_."

She whipped her eyes open, and it was as if that one word was the thing it took to bring her careening back into reality.

Clarke shoved against his chest with her right arm and brought her left hand up to smack him, the crack from the collision reverberating through the room.

"What world do you freaking live in Finn?" she screeched, wanting to simultaneously slap him again and rip her own hair out.

"Uh Clarke," she couldn't see his face as he was hunched over from the slap, his hand pressed to his cheek.

"Don't "Uh Clarke" me Finn Collins. What the fuck is wrong with you? I cannot even fathom what possessed you to think coming here was a good idea! You have no right to do this to me and you certainly have no right to do this to Raven!"

"Clarke," he said slowly straightening up.

"I'm not finished!" she was yelling now, and she was pretty sure the entire floor could hear. "I want you to get the fuck out of this apartment Finn, and you better believe me when I say I never want to see you again."

"Clarke!" He yelled, and now that she could fully see him she realized what he was talking about. The right side of Finn's face was completely covered in blood from where she'd slapped him.

"Crap," she breathed. _Well shit_, she thought. She hadn't meant to hit him that hard... although Bellamy would probably be impressed with her ability to draw blood.

"You're going to need some ice for that," she said, unable to stop the doctor side of her from coming out.

He shook his head and gestured down at her left hand and the pool of blood she hadn't even noticed she'd been creating on the tiled kitchen floor. "I don't think I'm the one who needs the ice…"

She lifted her hand to the light and saw that there was in fact a gruesome gash running from the nail bed to the knuckle of the middle finger on her left hand.

"You have got to be kidding me," she grumbled.

Finn had the sense to run over to the counter and grab a paper towel. She tore it from his hands before he had a chance to touch her again and started to wrap up her finger, but it took barely seconds for the sheet to turn red.

She repeated the process twice before Finn grabbed her phone and handed it to her. "That's it I'm taking you to the hospital."

She widened her eyes, "You most certainly are not."

"Clarke don't be ridiculous."

She scoffed in disbelief, "You're telling me not to be ridiculous? Really?" She waved her bloodied hand in his face, "This wouldn't have even happened if it weren't for you!"

He dodged another one of her failed attempts to hit him, "Which is why I'm responsible and am going to do the right thing and make sure you get to the hospital."

_The right thing_, her brain could barely even fucking handle the irony. She rolled her eyes at him, even though deep down she knew that he was right. It was only a matter of time before the adrenaline wore off and her finger started hurting like a bitch.

"I'm 26 years old Finn I think I know how to get myself to a freaking hospital."

He ran his hands through his hair in exasperation, "I'm trying to help you!"

"Well I don't want your help!"

He pierced her with a glare, but she didn't back down.

"I'm serious Finn. I don't want you here." She may have had a moment of weakness before, but she was done with that now.

He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned, "Fine. But you can't stop me from following you there."

She opened her mouth and closed it. She narrowed here eyes at him, "You wouldn't."

"I would."

They stared at each other, both fuming, for a second longer before Clarke finally let out an infuriated sigh.

"Fine! But if you say so much as one word on the way there I'm going to scream."

"Oh come on Clarke. That's just childish."

Clarke grabbed her keys from the bowl on the table in the hall and threw on a jacket and sneakers before setting out into the hallway, Finn following suit.

"You want to see childish? Wait till I'm having a temper tantrum in the middle of the street."

He sighed, but clearly her threat had gotten to him because he didn't say anything else. He stood and waited for her as she locked the door, a hand outstretched to help her down the stairs. She walked right past it, ignoring the gesture and sighed when she heard his steps following her down the stairs. This was not what she had planned for today. She'd wanted to sleep, she wanted to paint her nails, for fuck's sake she'd wanted to finally have time to shave her legs. Instead she was heading right back to the hospital.

So much for her day off.


	14. Chapter 14 - Teacher's Pests

**A/N : **By the way this was another double update! I originally had chapters 13 and 14 as one, but it felt like it was just getting too long and the story lines were a little too disconnected to fit under one chapter so i decided to just split them up :)

* * *

Teacher's Pests

There are certain things that teacher's will never admit to anyone except to those in their own profession. For example, Bellamy Blake would never admit that he glued his eyes to the clock longingly, counting down the minutes until he was free from his Junior European History class. Nope, he definitely would not be admitting that.

It was a simple reading period, but the first half had gone by so slowly he thought he would lose his mind. His only distraction had been a few text messages from Clarke, but even so, this hour period had felt longer than a day.

He snuck another inconspicuous glance at the clock and saw that his day would be over in 3..2..1 And then the bell rang mercifully.

He breathed a sigh of relief, and turned back to face the class who he was pretty sure wanted to get out of there just as much as he did. Though it was only a Tuesday, this week had already felt torturously long.

A few eager to run students had already stood up, and he shut his eyes at the familiar sound of chairs pushing back, bags unzipping, and books being slammed shut.

"Jordan, Green, _Samuels_ sit yourselves back down."

The three boys frowned, but did as they were told. Inwardly Bellamy smirked. He may have been the least experienced out of the teaching staff at Seattle Prep, but the one thing his young and intimidating demeanor brought him was respect… at least from the students.

"I'm handing back your papers from last week. I'm seeing strong improvements in some of you, but in others not so much."

He looked around the room and saw panic etch itself on the majority of the young faces before him. Bellamy sighed, he figured he should back track before these kids had an aneurysm.

He heard Clarke's voice in his head and almost smiled in front of everyone at the memory, _Y__ou do know that's not how you get an aneurysm right?_

"If this wasn't your best work, don't be discouraged. The year's just starting and I see a lot of potential in each and every one of you, so relax guys. These things take time to perfect. Don't look at this as a setback, but as motivation to do better in the future."

He started handing out the papers, face down, not bothering to see either the looks of elation or horror that appeared on his students faces.

He was almost done handing out the last paper when he remembered, "And before you go, if you have a sticky note on your paper, please feel free to come see me after lunch."

He could have just said see me after class to the student directly, but he knew there was only one kid with a sticky note on his page and Bellamy wasn't in the business of humiliating teenagers for fun.

Half an hour later after he'd finished having lunch (and by lunch he meant Clarke's weird, but somehow surprisingly edible mac and cheese) with Lincoln and Stacey Cameron, the newest addition to their crew of young inexperienced teaching staff, Bellamy was back at his desk waiting for Jasper Jordan to arrive.

Number two on the list of things that teacher's will never admit is that yes, they do in fact have favorites, and though Bellamy would never show it - Jasper was one of his. If he was being perfectly honest the kid reminded him of a younger, less angry, version of himself. Jasper had had a tough life too, jumping from foster home to foster home before finally ending up with a family willing to put him first and provide him with the opportunities that he deserved, and Bellamy would be damned if he didn't help him live up to his full potential.

He hadn't made this visit mandatory, over the years he'd found the best help is the kind you seek out yourself not have thrust upon you, but he sincerely hoped the kid would walk through the door.

He heard a knock and saw the gawky teen standing tentatively against the door, one hand shoved into his pocket and the other clutching the paper.

"You wanted to see me Sir?"

Bellamy smiled, hoping to put him at ease. "Sure did, come on in Jasper take a seat."

Jasper sat at one of the desks near the front and Bellamy pulled up a chair so they were sitting across from each other.

"So Jasper, what did you think about your job on this assignment?"

The boy's brow furrowed and his eyes widened like a doe in headlights, "I don't know Sir, there wasn't any grade on it."

Bellamy laughed softly, "Yes I'm aware of that but, I didn't ask you what _I_ thought – I wanted to hear what _you_ thought."

Jasper sighed and looked down on the unmarked sheet in front of him and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "It just never makes sense. I can always hear my thoughts in my brain, and hear my arguments so clearly, but when I get it down on paper it all just goes to shit."

Jasper stopped with his lips pressed together, the fear of knowing he just swore in front of a teacher on his face.

"Relax Jordan, you're not the first kid I've heard swear and you won't be the last, now I want to talk to you about how we can go about helping you out with this problem."

"Helping me, sir?"

"Your ideas are great kid, we just need to work on the execution. Which is why I wanted you to come talk to me. If you're up for it I'd like to help you with your essay skills… you could think of it as extra credit. It'd be more work then you may be used to, but I think it could really help you in the long run."

Jasper's eyes widened, "Are you serious? You'd do that?"

"Of course," Bellamy said it plainly like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

For the first time since he came into the room Bellamy saw his student smile, but that grin was soon replaced with another frown.

"But what about this paper… Do I, I mean, I guess I fail it right?"

"Tell you what, if you do this extra credit work for me I see no need to mark this down as a fail. Does that sound fair to you?"

The boy's eyes sparked like a freaking kid on Christmas morning.

"Thank you so much Sir. Serious this is uh… really awesome. No offense but you're a lot cooler than I thought."

Bellamy let out a deep laugh. He never really gave much thought to being cool. Intimidating? Yes. A hard ass? Sure. But cool? He shook his head while still grinning. Well if it was coming from a teenager he guess it must be true.

"Don't get too excited Jordan, this still isn't a free pass. I'm going to make you work for it, so you can save your thanks until we're done."

The boys face grew serious and he nodded decisively like a cadet to a drill sergeant. "You got it Sir."

Bellamy stood and the kid followed suit, "See you tomorrow Mr. Blake," the boy called as he skipped down the hall, walking with a spring in his step that hadn't been there before.

Bellamy nodded even though there was no one left to see and turned back into the room. He grabbed his bag and coat and headed down the hall the same way Jasper had went and if he was being honest with himself, he too left the school with a smile on his face and a lightness to his step.

Because sometimes he needed this - needed the reminder of why he did all this. Why he put up with PTA moms, elitism, and seniority drunk off power they didn't even know what to do with. He did it because one day long ago he'd needed someone to believe in him and now after all these years he was finally able to do the same for someone else. As far as Bellamy was concerned, there was nothing more rewarding than that.

* * *

A half hour later he walked into the ARK which was less busy than usual; the usual lunchtime crowd having already dispersed. He spotted Octavia behind the counter. She was talking to a male customer who was leaning on his elbows, hanging on to her every word.

Bellamy smirked in amusement, the guy looked like he was about to tip over the counter he was leaning so close._ Typical Octavia_, he thought, his sister (to his frequently voiced annoyance) had always seemed to have this effect on the opposite sex. And growing up, to make matters even more difficult for him, she was aware of it. He cringed at the memory of trying to raise her as a teenager… dealing with a sixteen year old Octavia had taken years off of his life and he was pretty fucking sure he'd soon have the wrinkles and early on set baldness to prove it.

He neared the counter and heard his sister laugh, but her tone was just friendly and not playful. He knew O, and once she was in a committed relationship she was never one to stray. Get bored and leave her boyfriend in the lurch? Sure. But loyalty was something engrained in the Blake siblings bones and not a virtue they took lightly.

The stranger however was clearly unswayed by her disinterest and was flirting with her shamelessly.

"Oh come on," the voice said, "one match. You can't make a claim like that without proof, I'm going to need evidence."

Bellamy raised a brow. Something in the boy's voice struck him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it…

His sister laughed, "Kid I am so not arm wrestling you. Now quite you're banter, I've got customer's to serve."

"Hey I'm your customer. I'm just keeping you on your toes. Wouldn't want you slacking now would we?"

Octavia rolled her eyes, but he could tell she wasn't peeved. If anything she was probably just amused at the kid's effort.

Wait a second… kid?

In that moment Bellamy knew exactly who the voice and shaggy brown hair and private school blazer draped on a nearby bar stool he'd failed to notice earlier belonged to.

Bellamy frowned and coughed to get their attention. Octavia noticed him over the boy's head and smiled. "Hey big brother!"

Jasper Jordan turned around on his bar stool seat and the second his eyes met Bellamy's he let out a less than dignified yelp and slipped right off the chair and onto his ass.

Octavia gasped and covered her mouth with her hand while Bellamy just watched with a smirk playing on his lips while his student attempted to scramble back onto his feet.

Jasper's face was flushed with embarrassment while he looked from Octavia back to Bellamy, clearly trying to see if there was a way he could salvage this.

"Uhh, hey Bellamy, what's up man. What's going on?" he tried, begging Bellamy with his eyes to go along with it.

Bellamy on the other hand simply snorted, "Seriously? That's what you're going with?"

Jasper winced and muttered a quick _Damn it_ under his breath. "Sorry sir. It was worth a shot."

Octavia tried unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh.

Bellamy turned his attention back to the boy in front of him. "Jordan why the hell aren't you in class?"

But just as he was about to start chastising one student, he saw his other pupil, Monty Green, pop out from behind the other end of the counter.

"I fixed your cappuccino machine Octavia!"

Bellamy fixed Jasper with a pointed stare, who was now shoving his face into his palms, shaking his head and groaning.

Monty spotted Bellamy and let out a singular, "Oh crap" before coming over to join his friend, or perhaps partner in crime would the more fitting term for the two of them.

Bellamy looked at his sister, "Octavia, why is a sixteen year old fixing your appliances."

Octavia shrugged, "He seemed eager. Who am I to get in the way of a young boy's passions?"

Bellamy rolled his eyes, while the two students clearly looked wounded at the prospect of being seen by his sister as "young boys."

"Damn it," Jasper muttered, "You knew we were sixteen?"

Octavia laughed, "Sorry boys, it's kind of easy to tell."

Monty bowed his head while Jasper puffed out his chest indignantly, "Hey, what I lack in years I more than make up for in charm."

Bellamy growled and put his hand on the boy's shoulder, whose confidence immediately wavered and he looked up at Bellamy with terrified eyes, "Please don't hurt me."

Octavia laughed again, "Easy big brother, the kid's about to pee his pants."

Monty looked from Jasper to Bellamy and started nodding his head adamantly as if to confirm, "It's true Sir, he's an accident waiting to happen."

Bellamy released the boy from his grip and pointed to the two bar stools facing him. "Sit", he demanded of them for not the first time today.

Octavia went to go help an impatiently waiting customer, but hurried on back in the blink of an eye.

Bellamy fixed her with a questioning glare, but she was unfazed. "What?" she asked innocently, "There's no way I'm missing teacher Bellamy in action."

The two students shared a secret look between the two of them and Bellamy inwardly groaned.

"Start talking," he said in a tone that managed to balance being calm, but serious all the same. He liked to think of it as his teacher voice, but in reality it was pretty much just his "_watch me try not to completely lose my shit_" voice.

Monty opened his mouth, his eyes earnest and ready to confess, but his friend placed a hand in front of him.

"What are we being accused of?" the boy asked, in a tone that mimicked his lawyer foster father's.

Monty groaned, and Bellamy sympathized with him.

"Jordan, remember what we talked about earlier? How would you like for that conversation to have never happened?"

The boy blanched and bowed his head, and Bellamy knew he had them.

"Well," Monty started with a grimace, "It's kind of a complicated."

Bellamy raised a brow, "Complicated?"

"Basically," Jasper cut in, "I forged us a couple of doctor's notes, gave them to Nurse Fields, then when she called the Dr (the Dr being my mom), Monty had set up the number on the note so that any calls that went to her were just forwarded to us. Then we used a voice changer to make me sound like a plausible girl and bada bing, bada boom, we get out of last period."

Bellamy didn't even know where to start processing, but his thoughts were interrupted by his sister, "Dudes, that's sick!" she proclaimed.

"Not helping sis," he scowled and she snorted.

"I'm sorry it's just, that takes some serious balls to pull off, come one Bell, don't tell me you're not impressed."

Jasper beamed, "Impressed?"

He pinned them both with a glare, "Not in the slightest."

Octavia laughed, "You should have seen some of the stuff Bellamy pulled when he was in high school."

"Were you a rebel sir?" Monty asked eagerly.

"Bellamy here took being a rebel to the extreme, I'm pretty sure you made half your teachers cry."

He fixed his sister with a murderous glare, but he knew the damage was done. The boys were enthralled, and he could tell this wasn't going to do wonders for his reputation.

"That's neither here nor there," he said decisively, putting an end to any talk of his high school days and the rebel he may or may not have been.

"Now, you're going to tell me why you were so hell bent on skipping last period. Because let me tell you, if you think you have something to prove, acting out and getting expelled is not the way to go about it."

All the life drained out of both of their faces. "Expelled?", Monty asked.

"You violated school rules and you committed a _felony_."

Monty's face turned the shade of his last name and Jasper had the sense to look scared shitless.

"We're really sorry sir," Monty started, "It's just that last period is English with Martin and no disrespect or anything but - "

Jasper cut his friend off, "The guys a complete bore. Besides today was just a reading period so _technically_ we didn't miss anything important."

Bellamy frowned and tried to mull everything he'd just heard over. _Damn kids_ he thought to himself as he felt a headache coming on, but he couldn't really blame them. Martin did know how to put an audience to sleep. Bellamy sighed, annoyed with the fact that he had to discipline even when he was already off work.

"I'm going to suggest two things to the both of you." Both boys leaned on their chairs looking a mixture of intrigued and down right terrified.

"One, you remove the word "technically" from your vocabularies. And two, you get out of here before I have the common sense to do anything more than give you detention."

Their mouths opened simultaneously and they sat there in shock.

"If I were you," his sister started, drawing their attention back to reality, "I would get going."

That was all the incentive and motivation they needed because in a second they were up off the stools and getting ready to leave.

"Thanks Sir," Jasper called while Monty repeated the same thing.

Bellamy groaned and muttered under his breath, "I am going to regret this."

Before they could leave O called out to them once more. "Hey boys, next time you want to pass for 19 year old college kids, I'd lose the blazers."

Jasper looked down at his blazer clutched in his hand then whipped his head towards Monty who was wincing sheepishly while still wearing his.

Jasper smacked the boy playfully on the back of the head, "Idiot!"

"Well I didn't want to lose it!" the other boy retorted and the two of them bantered as they walked out of the café, finally leaving Bellamy in peace.

He sighed and sat down on the recently vacated bar stool and shoved his head into his hands while Octavia brought him a glass of water.

"So that's being a teacher eh?"

He groaned, "You don't even know the half of it."

"You have to admit that was an impressive stunt they pulled. That Jasper kid reminds me of you."

He sat back up taking a sip of water. "Impressive isn't the word I would use, and something tells me skipping English wasn't their only motivation."

He narrowed his eyes and looked at his sister suspiciously, "That's not the first time they've come in here is it?"

She shook her head, "My lips are sealed."

He sighed, "You know what, I don't even want to know."

Octavia went to serve a customer and Bellamy waited for her to come back and to his surprise she came with two muffins in hand.

"Give one of these to Clarke when you see her later."

Before he would have frowned and protested but he simply nodded, wrapping the muffin up in a napkin for her. He'd pretty much accepted the fact that they were at the stage where they brought food to each other.

"So what's up Bell?" his sister asked, propping her elbows onto the counter, "I didn't expect to see you around today."

"Nothing really. I'm done for the day and I figured I'd kill a few hours before heading back to the apartment."

Octavia raised a brow, "Trouble in paradise again?"

Bellamy almost choked on his muffin. Paradise also wasn't a word he'd currently use to describe his home, but hell wasn't exactly one he'd use either so there was that.

"Not exactly," he said, "It's her day off though so I figured I'd give her some space. She probably wants to be free of me for a little while."

Octavia muttered something knowingly that Bellamy thought sounded like "I wouldn't be so sure if I were you."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

She grinned slyly, "I just know she hasn't talked about stabbing you in your sleep in over two weeks so I'd say that's a good sign."

Bellamy smirked, a small part of him proud of the fact that she'd stopped complaining about him to Octavia.

"I'm pretty sure I'm not the one Princess wants to be stabbing at the moment."

Octavia's brow raised, "Murphy problems?"

Bellamy shook his head, "No we ran into Finn the other day."

Her expression turned into one of pure revulsion, "You guys saw He Who Must Not Be Named?"

He nodded, "That's the one."

His sister grabbed a towel from one of the sinks and started wiping the counter down angrily, "God I hate that guy. I'm serious, if I could get a free pass to murder someone, it'd be him. That kind of scum doesn't even deserve to live."

"He doesn't deserve her that's for sure," Bellamy grumbled the words out before he could stop himself. A part of him hoped Octavia hadn't caught the comment but by the suspicious and puzzled look on her face, it was clear that she had. To his relief she didn't press him on it.

"How did Clarke handle seeing him?"

His mind flashed back to Thursday night and the only word that really came to mind was poorly. She'd handled it pretty badly, or at least just less confrontational than Bellamy would have, but he could see where she was coming from. She'd practically been blindsided. She may think of herself as pathetic for the way she'd dealt with him, but the simple fact that she'd even had the grace to stay civil in a situation like that made her braver that he ever would have thought.

Although he had to admit, he'd love to see her slug the bastard.

"I think she was pretty shaken up about it… I don't think I've ever seen her like that. To be honest I didn't really know what to do."

Bellamy paused, he'd just assumed that Clarke would have told O everything, but maybe there were some things she didn't even want her best friend to know.

"She didn't say anything to you about it?"

O shook her head, but she didn't look mad. "No, and it doesn't surprise me. Clarke doesn't like to talk about Finn."

He scoffed, "Can't blame her there."

Octavia looked at him strangely again, "She told you about him?"

Bellamy shrugged, "I kind of had to force it out of her, but I got the gist."

She gazed at him curiously, "Interesting."

Bellamy frowned, but before he could asked her what exactly was so interesting her phone rang, and Octavia ran to pick up her cell which she'd disregarded somewhere behind the counter.

She wiped her hands down on her jeans before picking up, "Clarke?" he heard her ask and Bellamy sat up, curious to hear the conversation. Lucky for him O started yelling so he didn't have to bother straining his ear.

"What are you doing calling me from Clarke's phone scumbag?"

He assumed she meant Murphy, and from what he'd seen of the guy that reaction was probably warranted.

"Put Clarke on shit face! What do you mean she can't talk right now? Her finger is what? No I'm not going to stop shouting!"

_What the fuck?_ Bellamy thought.

"I'm coming over. What do you mean she says it's not a big deal? I swear to god just hold the phone up to her ear, honestly you complete total waste of space - hey Clarke. You heard all that eh? Well he deserves it!"

Octavia continued talking into the phone at a thousand miles an hour, "Uh uh, uh huh, ew gross no I don't want to see that. So do you need me to come, are you ok? Cause I'll close up here and be over there in a second. You sure? Ok I'll just send Bell over then. Relax Clarke he's here already, it's not like he has anything better to do."

"Thanks sis," Bellamy mumbled, but Octavia just shushed him and continued speaking into the fun.

"Ok he'll be there soon. Tell fucktart next time he pulls a stunt like that he'll be the one coming out of it with stitches. YOU HEAR THAT ONE DICKHEAD? Right, still in your ear, sorry. Ok hang in there Clarke, and call me the second you're done ok?"

She put the phone down and huffed, breathing in deeply a few times to relax before turning to Bellamy and giving him the run down calmly as if she was telling him the weather, "Clarke sliced her finger open with a knife so she's at the hospital and she needs someone to come get her because they won't let her leave alone once they pump her with drugs."

He blinked hard making sure he heard his sister's inappropriately calm delivery correctly, "WHAT?"

"Relax Bell she says she's fine."

He shook his head, "You just said her finger's sliced open! That doesn't sound like fine to me Octavia."

Again a curious look crossed her face before she fixed him with a knowing grin, "You sound worried big brother."

"Of course I'm worried!," he fired back, not even registering the fact that he was probably overreacting.

His sister put her hands on her hips before shoving his bag at him, "Well calm down before you get there or you'll just freak her out."

He frowned, and Octavia continued in a softer more placating voice, "Seriously Bell she says she's fine. Just get her a magazine or something and distract her until she can go home."

He nodded, leaving without a response, bolting out of the Ark as fast as possible, not even noticing that he'd forgotten his muffin.

* * *

It was only once he'd made the trek to Seattle General in an obscenely short amount of time did he stop to take a breath and compose himself. He looked up at the hospital sign and found himself smirking, the ironic twist of the situation finally settling in.

Only Clarke Griffin would find a way to wind up back at work on her day off.

* * *

**A/N (2) : **So here's another two chapters for you guys! I know there wasn't too much Bellarke interaction, but the next chapter will be chock full of it so don't worry! I basically just really wanted to write some Teacher Bellamy in action so I figured why the hell not? And I decided for the sake of the story I was going to make Jasper and Monty teenagers as his students because let's face it, Bellamy is basically their dad on the show anyways.

Sorry it took me a little while to get these chapters together... I had my last day of work this week so the past couple weeks have been seriously hectic and free time was basically not a thing I had much of. I'm going to try and do a lot of writing over the next few days though because once I start up college again I'm not sure how much time I'll have so please be patient with me :) Anyways I hope you enjoyed the update(s) and I'm super excited about the next chapter! Bellamy worrying over a sick Clarke... I mean that's practically a recipe for perfection.


	15. Chapter 15 - Revelations

**A/N : **_Hello... It's me_.

Adele references aside, saying it's been a while is a gigantic understatement and I am so so sorry for leaving this story for so long. I'm aware I've been the definition of an inconsistent updater and for that I really am sorry :( I could go into a long winding essay about my excuses for not uploading (because there are quite a few), but the main reason is that I'm a student, and this year has been a bitch. I'm sure mostly everyone can relate, and when I say I haven't had much free time I'm unfortunately not being dramatic. This year has been crazy so far, and I really have been busy and any free time that I did have was clearly not spent writing. I don't think I was in any mental state for it to be perfectly honest, and I really do feel like shit for abandoning this, especially seeing everyones reviews over the past few months asking me to update.

But enough excuses! I was feeling creative again, and for the past week I just couldn't get this story out of my head and I finally decided to just force myself to sit down and write it. (The fact that I've been rekindling my obsession with the 100 after this huge hiatus probably helped too) It took a little while (it was definitely hard getting back into the swing of things), but this is what I got out and I hope it's ok :)

**Quick Recap** (for anyone who's still sticking around for this story after months of nothing) Clarke and Bellamy have been living together for a few weeks now and they're definitely on better terms than they started. Not to sound like a broken record, but this is definitely still a slow burn and I'm going for the whole hate to love thing (and right now they're sitting somewhere in between :P). Our girl Clarke has currently found herself in the hospital after a mishap involving Finn and a knife and Bellamy is off to meet her there! So that's where we left off :) I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Revelations

Clarke shoved her phone into her pocket, a phone which she had most certainly not given permission for Finn to pick up. She fixed him with a glare while he stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down at the ground. She inhaled deeply (although she knew at this point her hysteria was probably past the point of being fixed by meditative breathing) before letting him have it.

"I leave you alone for _thirty seconds _to go sign myself in and you couldn't make it through less than a minute before you went rummaging through my belongings and forgot everything you knew about respecting people's damn privacy!"

Though they were sitting across from each other now and had a perfectly reasonable distance between them, Finn still raised his hands dramatically in defense.

"Hey I'm sorry, but I thought since you were hurt you'd want Octavia to know! You two have always been glued at the hip... I thought I was doing you a favour!"

Clarke scoffed and rolled her eyes, "A _favour_? Oh that's rich."

"Look it was instinct ok… you were hurt and I guess I just figured," he sighed and shook his head, "I really don't know what I figured."

She shook her own head, more so in disbelief at the whole situation she now found herself in than anything. She toned her shrieking down a little, but her voice carried the same bite as it had before. Clarke was starting to think that having a civil conversation with her ex was forever going to be a thing of the past.

"Instinct? Really? We've been broken up for how long now and you still think it's your place to go calling people on my behalf and showing up at my apartment unannounced? Do you not see how fucked up that is Finn? God, if I acted on instinct then, between the two of us, I wouldn't be the one needing stitches right about now!"

Luckily for them the emergency room was emptier than usual, and spare for the two middle aged women who raised curious brows at Clarke's outburst, their conversation went for the most part unnoticed. Finn winced and noticeably recoiled, looking wounded and annoyed at the same time.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but seemed to change his mind.

"Are you ever going to forgive me Clarke?"

Clarke sighed, "Whether or not I've forgiven you is irrelevant at this point Finn. No really," she continued when she saw his mouth open in protest so as to stop him from cutting her off, "it doesn't matter. Maybe I'll forgive you one day, maybe I wont, but to be perfectly honest… all I want to do now is forget. I'm tired of remembering what you did to me and all I want is to move on. I'm happy without you in my life, and I'm sorry if that's hard for you to hear, but it's the truth. I'm happy."

His mouth twisted into what looked like grimace and he finally stood.

"I'm going to get some water, do you want anything?"

Clarke shook her head, "No. Really Finn I'd wish you'd just go."

Lucky for her he spared her a response and finally tuned and left, but she didn't miss the fact that his coat was left on the seat. She muttered something under her breath and was about to start filling out the obligatory medical forms when she was interrupted by another annoyance in her life.

"Well, well, well, look who wound back up at good ol Seattle General on her day off. You know Griffin, if you're trying to convince me that you're not secretly in love with me this is not the way to go about it."

Clarke let out an expletive that had the two women nearby giving her disapproving glares.

She set down her pen and looked up at her colleague who was wearing scrubs and carrying a stack of files in one hand.

She rolled her eyes before batting her eyelashes suggestively and lacing her voice with sarcasm, "Oh you know me Murphy, I just can't keep myself away."

Murphy shrugged, "Well that much has always been obvious. But seriously, what gives Griffin? Trip over yourself again?"

She resigned herself to the fact that she probably wasn't getting out of this conversation and flashed him her middle finger, her cut up and bloodied one to be exact.

"Jesus Christ," Murphy exclaimed and peered down closer to examine her hand, "what the hell did you do that to yourself for?"

"Why do you automatically assume I did this to myself?," she replied indignantly, "for all you know I could have just been in a knife fight!"

All he had to do was raise an eyebrow for Clarke to concede with an irritated grumble, "Yeah, yeah I know how stupid it sounds, shut up!"

"So how long have you been waiting here for?"

Clarke shrugged and looked down at her watch, "I don't know, about 20 minutes maybe."

Murphy frowned and his expression turned from mocking to thoughtful, "Ok I'll finish up with a patient and be back to stitch you up after I get these charts back to the nurses' station."

Clarke felt her eyes widen, "Oh no, no way, you and your stitches are not getting anywhere near me."

Murphy clutched his chest as if her words truly wounded him, "Are you saying you have no faith in my suturing skills?"

Clarke narrowed her eyes, "I'm sure your suturing skills are fine. Your ability to be a decent human being however, that I question."

"Your words are like knives Griffin. But seriously I'll be back to check on you. You know, just to see whether or not you've still got a finger by the end of this."

"Do you not have anything better to do Murphy? Is there no one else you can bother?"

He shrugged, "Sure there is Griff, but bothering you is just so much more fun."

She muttered some unintelligible curse words beneath her breath before he laughed and cut her off, "Would you rather me leave you alone with lover ex over there?"

Clarke's mouth popped open into a surprised O before she refocused her gaze on him, "How did you know he was my ex?"

"The hair. But drunk you didn't do it justice, it's much floofier than I imagined."

Clarke couldn't help but snort at that one, "It is awful isn't it?"

Murphy smirked, "Down right tragic. Anyways Griffin I'm off, try not to injure yourself or others while you're at it. I'll be back to check on you soon."

She stuck out her tongue like a child, "Whatever, as long as you don't come bearing stitches."

And with that Murphy was off and she was finally left in peace. She'd have to hand it to Murphy, his friendship might be a pain in her ass, but at least she felt cheered up. She looked back down and scribbled away at her forms, pausing and frowning when she came to the emergency contact information. She decided to skip that one and come to back to it later. Normally she'd just put down Octavia, but that'd always been because they lived together… and that certainly wasn't the case anymore. Clarke finally set the forms aside and looked up, her gaze immediately falling on Finn's abandoned seat and her mood souring immediately.

But luckily she was distracted from thoughts of him with another new arrival into the emergency room. One she'd completely forgotten she'd been expecting.

_Oh crap, _she thought. This wasn't going to be good.

Bellamy seemed to be oblivious to the fact that his presence seemed to draw the attention of everyone in the emergency room. To any one else he'd look cool and collected, like a force to be reckoned with and certainly someone to be intimidated by. For the first time ever it seemed as if she was seeing him the way strangers did, not someone who'd known him for years.

It was the way he carried himself she thought, not just the obvious fact that he was tall and looked like he could beat the living daylights out of someone if they crossed him the wrong way. No, it was the way he stood with his shoulders drawn back, jaw set, and hands clenched in a way that she knew would make the veins on his forearm pop out against the contrast of his tan, olive skin. It was like he commanded respect and fear all without saying a word, and for the first time Clarke almost couldn't picture him walking through the halls of a school, his back to a classroom of students.

And for a moment Clarke was jealous. She'd never had that power, the ability to command authority without question. It was why she kept her words sharp, and a constant air of seriousness around her. Otherwise people would think they could just walk over him. She had to build her reputation, but Bellamy… to him it just came naturally. Something like this would never have happened to him.

Her gaze travelled up to his face. The casual observer would see nothing out of the ordinary about him, but Clarke was surprised to note that she was now attuned to the tension in his body language and the way his eyes scanned the room with purpose. She could practically feel the waves of anxiety rolling off of him and something unfamiliar twisted in her stomach knowing that she was what they were searching for.

For some reason she felt awkward all of a sudden and she was about to wave, or stand up, or call out to him or _something_, but before she had the chance to his hardened stare found hers. Maybe she imagined it, but even across the distance between them she could have sworn she saw his gaze soften and his shoulders relax.

But as soon as he crossed over to her in three impossibly long strides, the moment was broken, and she was sure she'd imagined it.

_Well shit_, she thought as she saw his eyes widen and his mouth open, but she stopped him before he could let her have it. Her,_ "Bellamy relax I'm fine," _came out the same time as his _"What the hell happened?" _

He crossed his arms and frowned, "Really Princess? Because to me _that_," he pointed to her now extremely bloodied wrap job around her finger, "does not look fine."

Clarke rolled her eyes, unsurprised at the fact that he would act this way. If there was anything she'd picked up about Bellamy Blake from the past few weeks it was that he had a penchant for over dramatization. In fact, he looked almost as freaked out right now as he had when he'd heard that his sister was moving in with Lincoln.

"I don't need to be patronized Bellamy… unless this outburst is just how you show concern and if that's the case I should let you know you kind of suck at it."

He raised both brows, "Oh really? Me running here from The Ark isn't showing enough concern for you?"

_Damn_, she scolded herself, _Way to sound like an asshole Clarke_. That definitely did not come out right, and she tried her best to backtrack.

She sighed, "No, that's not what I meant, you know it's not."

Despite the fact that there were plenty of open chains around them, not to mention the one right across, Bellamy sat down beside her, his eyes glued to her hand, "Yeah I know, I know. Can you really blame me though? One second I'm getting a coffee and the next thing I know my sister is screaming about you being in the fucking emergency room!"

She looked up at him, but he refused met her gaze, "You didn't have to run all the way here you know? It's really not that bad. I _told _Octavia it wasn't that bad." Clarke frowned, she should have known O would have made it sound worse than it was… clearly theatrics ran in the family.

She expected another sarcastic response but instead he let out a small breathy laugh. They were sitting so close that she could feel the vibration of it. "You know what Doc, I'm starting to think that you're assessment of the situation is biased by how much blood you see on a daily basis."

Clarke frowned, well there was no arguing with that. "You _might _have a point there." Looking down at her hand she guess she could see why he, and even Murphy, would be concerned.

She could see him reach over as if about to grab her hand, but pulled back at the last second. He let out an awkward cough before looking up at her, "Can I see the damage?"

Clarke nodded and undid the wrapping herself. The wound definitely looked worse than it was from all the residual dried up blood, but it'd finally stopped bleeding so that was about as good of a sign as she could get.

Bellamy's face turned noticeably paler and Clarke raised a brow. She was about to say something when he stopped her,

"I swear to god if you're about to say 'it's not that bad' I'm having you committed."

Clarke rolled her eyes, but he of course didn't see. His eyes were still fixed on her hand and his entire face was a mask of concern. She'd seen that look on him before, of course she had with the amount of times Octavia had gotten herself into some kind of fiasco, but she'd definitely never been the recipient of that look. She shifted uncomfortably, before breaking the silence with a laugh.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of blood?"

She could see him swallow, but at least he finally looked away from her hand. "Blood, not so much, but I'm not exactly immune to the sight of mutilated fingers"

Clarke laughed, "Fair enough."

Bellamy looked at her from the side and she saw a toned down version of the look he'd been wearing since he first stepped in here, "Does it hurt?"

She shook her head, and he noticeably relaxed, "It's fine, really it's not that bad. Believe it or not I can take care of myself Bellamy Blake."

He frowned, but smirked so that she knew he was teasing, "The word 'fine' officially needs to be removed from your vocabulary. And believe me, I know you can, but you still haven't answered my earlier question."

Clarke raised a brow and tried to run through their earlier conversion, "What the hell happened?"

Bellamy nodded, "That's the one."

She sighed, "There may have been a knife and a certain ex boyfriend involved."

She felt him tense again and his lip curled up into a snarl, "Yeah I gathered that much from Octavia. So where's the asshole now?"

"Asshole huh?" Clarke's stomach dropped when she heard a voice that told her Finn had obviously returned.

He was standing and looking at them with a mix of smugness and genuine hurt, but all Clarke chose to see was the smugness that made her want to wipe that look off of his face. Clearly Bellamy shared that same sentiment.

Finn may have been able to feign bravado when Bellamy was sitting, but when the older Blake stood up it was like watching a flame burn out.

"Yes," Bellamy said with a cold calmness that made a shiver run down her spice, "people who put their _ex_ girlfriend in a hospital are generally people that I would classify as an asshole."

Bellamy took a step closer and Finn took one back, and Clarke couldn't help but pray this wouldn't turn into a scene in the middle of the emergency room.

Bellamy smirked, and Finn frowned, "And what the hell do you find so amusing?"

Bellamy nodded his chin to the blood smear that Finn still donned on his cheek, "It's just nice to see that she got in a good swipe while she was at it, although next time _Princess"_

Clarke couldn't help but notice the way he lingered on that word, and Finn clearly did too - his face reddening by the second, "try to go in with a closed first."

Clarke couldn't help but snort at the game Bellamy was playing here which caused Finn looked at her in shock, "Wow, real nice guy you got living with you Clarke."

"Oh please Finn, at least he has the good sense not to antagonize me when I have sharp objects in my hand."

Clarke sighed before either of them could say anything else, "Look Finn I want you to go. I've tried yelling and screaming and throwing things at your face and I don't know why you can't just get it through that thick skull of yours. I don't want you anymore. I've said this a thousand times and please don't make me say anything else I'm going to regret letting loose in public. Please just go."

Finn looked around as if for the first time noticing that the crowd, albeit a small group, in the waiting room had their eyes and ears glued to the confrontation. His cheeks deepened even more, Finn had never been one for public spectacles.

He lowered his voice to a whisper, "Clarke -

But Bellamy interrupted, "Good God are you deaf? Or just stupid? Because from where I'm standing she made it pretty clear she wants you to leave."

Clarke flashed him what she thought was a subtle look of thanks which he met with a curt nod of his own, but Finn clearly hadn't missed the silent exchange and that finally seemed to be the last straw."

Finn shook his head at the ground, "Fine - I'll go. Even if you don't want to hear it, just know that I really am sorry Clarke. And that... that this is the last time you'll have to deal with me. I... I don't want to hurt you anymore." She let his words sink in, but this time she didn't watch him leave; she turned her attention back to Bellamy who seemed to be watching Finn's receding figure like a hawk, making sure that he really left.

Clarke tugged at his coat which seemed to bring his attention back to her and she motioned him to sit back down.

"That guy is an asshole." Bellamy grumbled and Clarke let out a laugh, "Yes I think you made that clear."

He muttered under his breath, "Not fucking clear enough." and she just shook her head and smiled, feeling more at ease now than she had since running into her past a few days ago. She hadn't told anyone about Finn for so long, no one other than Octavia and a drunk Murphy that is. She didn't know why she'd chosen to confide in Bellamy but, after everything that'd happened, she couldn't help but feel glad that she did. It was... nice, having him on her side.

"You know… you didn't have to do that?" she whispered so as to not give the ladies around them any more fuel for gossip at their next brunch.

Bellamy smirked before letting out a resigned breath, "I know. But _you_ know I would have done it anyway don't you?"

She stared at him intently while he refused to meet her gaze, concentrating on the chair across from them. Finally he turned and fixed her with a look she couldn't name, but the mood between them had decidedly shifted. He spoke softly, "I think it's pretty clear that you and I are not enemies anymore."

She smiled and felt something warm stirring within her, and when she thought about it.. she didn't think they ever were, not really.

"So," she started, not wanting to change the subject quite yet, "What exactly are we Bellamy Blake."

His lips turned up into that familiar teasing leer.

"I don't know _Clarke Griffin_," she could tell he was mocking her use of his full name and turning the tables back on her, "what are we?"

She frowned and opened and closed her mouth a few times in exasperation while he looked like he was holding back a laugh, "You can't ask me that, I'm the one who asked _you _that!"

"Oh can't I?"

She rolled her eyes in exasperation and sighed, although she knew she was failing to keep a smile off her lips. She liked that they were back in their routine, and that the craziness of the day seemed to finally be gone. Clarke wasn't sure when bantering with Bellamy had started to feel normal, but it did, and she'd be lying to herself if she said she didn't enjoy it.

"You're being ridiculous you know that?"

He let out a real laugh and she continued, "Fine. If you really want to define it, we're... roommates."

Bellamy's laugh was cut short and he raised a brow at her, "Wow roommates, really? I never would have come to that conclusion myself."

She glared at him, but she could tell he was testing her. Pushing her to say something else and she knew he wasn't going to let this go.

"Fine," she said it casually and matter of factly, "we're friends." And she was surprised at how naturally it came to her and how true it felt.

Bellamy smiled softly, "Friends huh?" He said it like he was testing out the word and deciding how it felt.

"Prove it."

Clarke furrowed her brows in confusion, "Excuse me?"

Bellamy leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms casually and looked at her, "You heard me. If we're friends then I think you should prove it."

She frowned, "I wasn't aware that friendship was something we needed to prove."

He shrugged, "I guess it isn't."

Clarke leaned back with her mind was still reeling, but she thought that he was finally going to let this go.

"But…"

_Oh god what now_, she groaned.

He had that teasing look in his eye again, "I just hope you know that I'm going to take your refusal for a simple bit of proof to mean that you're just lying to me."

Clarke widened her eyes, "Oh for fuck's sake Bellamy are you serious?"

"As serious as a heart attack."

He said it loud enough that the woman close to them looked at him with disgust.

Bellamy caught it and back tracked, "Shit I forgot we were in a hospital."

Clarke couldn't help but laugh at the look of genuine horror on his face. If she was being honest, she'd actually forgotten they were in a hospital too. She shook her head and leaned across him to pick up the forms she'd discarded earlier, while Bellamy watched her every move.

"What are you doing?" he asked seriously.

She fixed him with a teasing grin of her own. "Proving it."

He looked at her curiously as she filled out the one remaining blank on her form with the name that she realized she'd almost written down automatically in the first place.

She handed the paper to hm and he looked at it with concentration, but she didn't miss the small smile that he quickly hid away.

"Big move Princess, you sure you're judgement's not impaired?"

She laughed and rolled her eyes, "Big move huh? Next thing you know I'll be asking you to move in with me."

He smirked, but she still felt the need to return to her serious self.

"I mean really when you think about it this makes a lot of sense. O is busy now a days, we don't live together anymore, god knows I haven't spoken to my mother in years. And besides, you've proven yourself to be a capable, albeit slightly over dramatic and insane, person to have in an emergency so logically - "

He shut her up by placing his hand on her knee which she hadn't even realized had begun tapping incessantly, "Relax Clarke, I was kidding."

She felt drawn to meet his gaze and felt a rather inconvenient flush start to creep up onto her cheeks. She hadn't noticed that they'd somehow shifted closer over the last couple of minutes and she was sure there was no way he missed the blush that spread across her face.

_Damn pale skin and dilating blood vessels_ she thought.

He laughed and nudged her again, "As long as you don't find a way to wind up here once a week, I don't see any problem being your emergency contact. Besides… that's what _friends_ are for."

She smiled teasingly, "So are you saying my proof is adequate enough for you?"

"It'll do."

Clarke rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, "Idiot." which he met with a laugh.

"You know that was incredibly cheesy right?" she asked.

"Obviously," he replied.

She shook her head, "Well so long as you're aware."

"It did the trick though didn't it?"

She frowned, "What do you mean?"

"Took your mind off all," he circled his head towards their surroundings, "this."

She paused realizing that it had.

He smiled when she didn't say anything and continued, "So you want to hear about my day?"

"Was it as dramatic as mine?"

He grinned, "Almost."

And so they passed the time like that for the next few minutes until Clarke's name was called and they both stood up to follow the nurse. Despite the ex boyfriend, the knife wound, and the stitches… she had to admit, her day off hadn't turned out so bad after all.

* * *

Finishing up with his patient had taken longer than he'd anticipated, John Murphy thought as he finally made his way back to the emergency room after dropping his charts off at the nurses station.

Ok, ok it hadn't been the patient, it'd been the hot nurse Olivia he'd been flirting with. _Can you blame me?_ Murphy thought, and answered his own question. _No siree_, but he'd got bored after a couple minutes and decided he should go check on Griffin.

He'd always known she was a hazard to herself and others, and he didn't want to miss his opportunity to taunt her just a little more. And maybe, just maybe there was some part of him that was genuinely concerned. Despite what people might think John Murphy did have some semblance of a heart… some.

He walked to the emergency room from the staff entrance, but stopped at the sight in front of him.

_Interesting_, he thought, _How very interesting._

To his surprise Clarke Griffin was no longer sitting alone, but neither was she throwing daggers at her poodle of an ex boyfriend. No, not poodle, more like a shih tzu. Yes that's what it was.

But no, the ex was no where to be found. Instead he saw Clarke sitting next to none other than Blake. The two were sitting so close next to each other that it was a miracle that Clarke hadn't wound up in his lap yet. Although she didn't seem to realize it, neither did Blake actually. In fact the two seemed perfectly oblivious to the existence of anything around them.

John Murphy had always prided himself on his observation skills. You couldn't be a successful thief without them. He had a knack for understand the way people moved, for seeing their patterns before they were even conscious of them. It was a gift really, albeit one that'd gotten him locked up in juvie, but still the gift remained - he was just forced to use it in different, less illegal ways.

Like now. The way he could see how Clarke would stare down at the ground, oblivious to the way Blake's eyes practically burned into her. Or the way his eyes would light up when she made a joke. The two looked so damn intimate with each other, that if if he possessed any shred of decency he'd look away.

But decency was overrated. He'd been about to step closer and interrupt when Clarke's own laugh tore through the other sounds of the emergency room, and for some reason that made him stop.

Confusion ran through him. What the hell was this? Was this _jealously_? God knows he didn't look at Griffin the way Blake was looking at her right now, but still. And then it hit him. He'd gotten too comfortable, somehow deluding himself into thinking Clarke Griffin was his to tease, _his_ source of entertainment and release when he needed an escape from an otherwise shit filled day. In fact she was the closest damn thing he'd come to having a friend in a long time.

But it came as somewhat of a shock to see that to her, he wasn't anything. He never was.

And there was his other gift. Caring too much about people who didn't give two shits about him.

Murphy frowned and turned away from the emergency room before either of them could spot him. He shook his head, trying to forget about whatever the hell he'd just felt when he ran into Dr. Kane.

"John?"

Murphy swallowed. He'd never really had a thing for authority.

"Sir?"

Dr. Kane peered behind him to see what direction he'd come from, "Did I just see you coming from the emergency room? I thought I put you on pre ops and post ops."

"Done and done, sir. I was just checking on Griffin."

"Griffin?" Dr. Kane's brows furrowed.

Murphy realized the source of confusion, "It's Clarke Sir, she just couldn't stay away on her day off."

Dr Kane nodded in understanding, "Well that doesn't surprise me. Listen John," he stretched out his hands and in them contained a file with a patient's name he was now intimately familiar with.

"I hate to do this to you again, I know that you're supposed to be on break now, but if you have some free time could you go and check up on our friend in Room 416."

Murphy nodded, taking the file from his hands. "Bad day?"

"She had another round of chemo today, and I think she could use some cheering up to say the least."

"Alright," he said.

Dr. Kane smiled, "You're a good man John. And not a half bad Dr. too. But don't tell anyone I said that."

Murphy smirked, unused to this kind of attention from his superior, but he knew that if he wasn't doing him this favour he probably wouldn't be hearing any of this.

"I could say the same about you Sir," and before Dr. Kane had the chance to figure out whether or not that was a compliment or an insult, Murphy was off.

As he walked over the Room 416, a room in the oncology wing, he felt the familiar feeling of guilt sinking in his gut.

Maybe it was a good thing that Clarke Griffin didn't lean on him the way he did her. Maybe it was a good thing they kept each other at a distance, because if she knew the truth… if she knew the secret that he'd been keeping from her since June. Well, suffice it to say, any sort of friendship they'd built over the past few months would go up in flames.

He swallowed and made sure to keep any anxiety off of his face. The patient would be sure to pick up anything that felt off and question him immediately, and he wouldn't be able to lie. Not to her at least, and certainly not about her own daughter.

God he was such a dick.

He reached Room 416. The name on the chart said Abby Jacobson.

He opened the door and greeted the patient inside.

"John!" the woman greeted him brightly, but he didn't miss the exhaustion in her voice - the result of yet another secret round of chemotherapy. The reason that Dr. Kane never openly assigned him or Clarke to the oncology wing. The secret all of them had been keeping, at her request, from Clarke for months.

"Hey Mrs. Griffin." he said softly, and closed the door.

Yeah, John Murphy had a heart alright, and it was a starting to become a big damn inconvenience.

* * *

**A/N 2 : **So that's Murphy's big secret, and the reason he's been sneaking off to the hospital without Clarke knowing. This may seem like kind of a heavy reveal for what's supposed to be a "light" story, but I had this written in from the very beginning and I like keeping things complex and layered. Some things turned out differently than I'd imagined; I wanted to go for a big Finn / Bellamy confrontation, but to be honest that didn't feel right to me and I wanted to keep the focus on Bellamy and Clarke and finally get Finn out of the picture. But anyways, I hope this chapter turned out ok and I'm really excited to get back into this story, especially with the season 3 premiere being right around the corner! I'm trying to keep my expectations low (especially concerning Bellarke developments), but I'm still so excited eeeee!


	16. Chapter 16 - Just Kids

**A/N : **AND WE'RE OFF OF HIATUS! What's everyone been thinking of the new season so far? To be honest I have a lot of thoughts. I was actually really enjoying things up until this point (episode 2 was everything I ever needed in my life) but this last episode made me pretty mad, not going to lie. I know I'm a Bellarke fan, but to be perfectly honest I haven't had a huge problem with Clexa this season. If I didn't ship Bellamy and Clarke I probably would ship them. I really love ADC, _but_ what I do not love is the other elements of the story that are being sacrificed for the Clexa storyline. I know the "journey is long" and I think there's more to the story that we know yet, but I just don't think what they did to Bellamy's character was justifiable, no matter how much JRoth tries to back track or explain it. But anyways, other than that I've been enjoying it. It does feel like a completely different show though, which I am slightly bittersweet about. Anyone remember the days of "Princess." *sigh* But what have you guys been thinking, I'd love to hear your thoughts! Mostly I just seriously hope that Bellamy is not completely destroyed this season.

Also thank you to everyone who left comments after the last chapter :) I'm glad people are still excited about this story! And though I can't promise weekly updates like I'd want to, I'll always be trying my best, and even in the back of my mind I'm always brainstorming and writing things down, so this story will get finished at some point! Plus now that the show back I really need to get my feelings out anyway that I can. So that being said I hope you enjoy this chapter!

One more thing, there has been a lil bit of a time jump between the last chapter and now, but that's just because I wanted to get things moving a little faster. I'm getting impatient with my own slow burn and no, the irony of that is not lost on me.

* * *

Just Kids

_2 weeks later_

"I don't want to."

"Clarke you have to."

"Nope. Not doing it."

Bellamy sighed in annoyance, "You're being ridiculous."

"And you're being bossy."

Bellamy knit his brows together and glared at her.

"Sorry, I take that back. You're just being grumpy."

He scoffed in offence, "Grumpy, really, are we five? I am not grumpy."

"Ah yes," she said and adopted his stance, "arms crossed, eyes narrowed, and a surly expression plastered to your face. You're just a ray of fucking sunshine."

He rolled his eyes, "You know what would make me less _grumpy_? If you sucked it up and went to talk to you know who."

Bellamy and Clarke had run into their neighbours from across the hall last weekend. It had been pouring in Seattle, no surprise there, so they'd been waiting in the lobby of the apartment for their Uber to arrive to take them to the Ark. O had Jaymes Young booked to perform that night, which was amazing press for the Ark and for Clarke and Bellamy who'd been anticipating the show for weeks.

They'd been standing and chatting when Alana Rhodes, Bellamy's unfalteringly peppy, smiley, and nosy next door neighbour happened to walk in from the pouring rain. The Rhodes lived in one of the two floor apartments, which Bellamy hadn't know until that moment, and had two kids under the age of 10, which Bellamy also hadn't known. Why did he know this now? Well it was because Alana had latched onto Clarke like a leech and within 5 minutes had found out more about her than Bellamy had known during the past 6 years (before they'd started living together of course). And lucky for them, they'd learnt just as much, if not more, about Alana.

Up until that point Bellamy had made it a goal of his to learn as little about his neighbours as possible. He didn't bother them, and they didn't bother him, and that'd suited him and Lincoln just fine. To be perfectly honest, he'd suspected that Alana had tried to steer clear of them herself. She didn't seem like the kind to associate with the two single guys across the hall. No, this woman screamed soccer mom.

Bellamy hated soccer moms.

Luckily their Uber had arrived and they'd managed to escape before they'd be roped into her next pot luck. He hadn't thought about the incident since then, only having to offer her a begrudging smile once when he bumped into her on the stairs on her way to work. He was relieved that things hadn't changed.

That was, until he got home from work today to find a note slid under their door.

"Bellamy I have work to do. I have to figure out an entire procedure that I've never even heard of before that I'm supposed to be scrubbing in on in two days. If I don't get my shit together I'm going to look like an idiot!"

"Clarke, you're the one she asked to see. You know if you don't "_pop by for a chat_" now," Clarke cringed at the words, "she's just going to keep pestering us."

Clarke grumbled, "What could she possible want."

Bellamy shrugged, "Beats me. Especially considering you've already told her your life story. God knows what else she wants to find out."

Clarke's mouth opened agape, "What was I supposed to do! My god she just kept asking question after question." She shuddered as if reliving the experience.

"You know you didn't have to answer. There is such a thing as being too nice," Bellamy pointed out.

Clarke scoffed, "Oh right, so I should have done what you did right? Aka stood there like a caveman answering in grunts and shrugs and looking like you wanted to kill someone the entire time. It's called being _polite_ Bellamy."

"Manners are overrated, besides I don't like the woman. She smiles too much, it weirds me out."

At that Clarke laughed and shook her head, "Well that's valuable information. So are you saying all I have to do to scare you and make you uncomfortable is smile?"

Bellamy rolled his eyes, but didn't answer. Truth be told, seeing Clarke smile did make him uncomfortable, but in an entirely different way. And it threw him off balance just as equally. The way he'd automatically try to catch her eye after making a joke, hoping to see if he made her smile. The way his stomach seemed to clench whenever he did. He told himself it was just because he'd spent so long making Clarke Griffin look pissed that seeing something other than hate on her expression was the validation he needed to make sure whatever they'd built up between them was real. That their friendship wasn't just something he'd made up in his head.

Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that he'd find his gaze pulled towards her face when she wasn't paying attention, and the vacant expression she wore in the silence did something to him that he couldn't quite understand. It was the same look she'd worn on that long bus ride together, and the way she'd looked in the hospital after Finn had left when she'd thought Bellamy wasn't looking. All he knew was that he hated what that look on her face did to him.

But lately he couldn't figure out whether or not he hated what her smile did to him more.

He seemed to realize that it'd taken him too long to answer and Clarke was now staring at him with a raised eye brow and a confused look on her face. Before he could say anything she seemed to make up her mind.

"Ugh fine, if it'll make you happy I'll go talk to Mrs. Rhodes." He couldn't help but smile at the way she looked like a child who'd just been told to go do her chores.

"You know I'm sure you could just call her Alana."

Clarke threw on a sweater that'd been lying on the counter and pocketed her phone, "Don't you feel weird calling anyone with kids anything other than Mrs? It's weird to think that we're both adults, but someone can have their shit so much more together than you. Anyways, if I'm not back in 15 minutes and you don't call me to make up some sort of emergency I swear to god that you won't have to worry about me smiling for a _very_ long time. Got that?"

Her eyes were shooting daggers at him again, and Bellamy couldn't help but laugh. "Whatever you say Princess. Whatever you say." She stuck her tongue out at him and reluctantly strode out the door.

Bellamy didn't have to wait even 10 minutes before Clarke was back, shutting the door quietly behind her as if she was trying to sneak in. He lowered the heat on the soup he was reheating when she walked into the kitchen with an expression that made his stomach drop.

That expression was guilt.

"Oh good God Clarke, what did you do?"

She winced, "You might want to save that soup for later."

Bellamy frowned in confusion, "What? Why?"

"Well, Alana was being so nice, and she did that thing, you know, where she just keeps talking and talking and I -

Bellamy swore it was as if he could practically feel the migraine coming on. And so he cut her off, "Spit it out Clarke."

She huffed in defeat and mumbled something under her breath.

"You're going to have to take things up a decibel or two Princess."

Finally she looked up at him, and the look on her face told him he was not going to like the sound of this.

"We're babysitting her kids tonight. She needed a last minute babysitter and I told her we'd be over there in 10."

Bellamy opened his mouth in disbelief and was about to let her have it, but he was distracted by the fact that Clarke had already tipped his chin close. Her hands were on his skin for barely a second, but he could feel her touch linger there the same way the drumming in your ears refuses to pass after a concert.

"Look," she said and he looked down at what he'd missed her putting on the counter. "She gave us cupcakes as a thank you isn't that sweet."

Bellamy shot her an are you _freaking _kidding me kind of look, all the while crossing his arms. If he hadn't been grumpy before, the prospect of spending his evening with 2 kids was enough to make him so now.

"So let me guess," he said slowly, "you got us roped into this because of your "_manners_" is that right."

She bit her lip, "I'll admit your earlier assessment of my character may have had some truth to it."

"You think!"

"Shhh," Clarke protested, "Have a cupcake. You'll feel better after the cupcake."

Bellamy was about to say something, but she was shoving the box in his hand and walking over to her room.

"Don't forget we leave in 10!"

Like hell they did. "Don't you mean _you're _leaving in 10."

Clarke stopped and spun around.

"But I told her we'd both be there."

Bellamy shrugged, "That's not my problem."

Clarke pouted, "Bellamy please. You can't leave me alone with 2 kids. I'll go insane. You have experience with younger kids, you're a teacher, you grew up with Octavia. I'm an only child. I suck at these things."

His eyes widened, "Then why did you say yes!"

"That woman is impossible. I couldn't have said no even if I'd wanted to."

Bellamy sighed, "Clarke you work with kids all the time. It'll be exactly the same. Except with hopefully less vomit."

"I can deal with sick kids just fine. It's the healthy ones that get me. They like to run around Bellamy. In circles. You have to help me, please."

He muttered some obscenities under his breath before finally meeting her ridiculous puppy dog expression and finally giving in.

"You're the worst you know that?"

She squealed and for a moment it looked like she was about to run up and tackle him with a hug, but instead she just smiled gratefully.

"And this makes you the best, I owe you one."

"You wouldn't have to owe me one if you learnt how to say no," he grumbled to which she replied, "I heard that!"

"Good!"

He looked longingly at his soup before turning the heat off and leaving it sitting on the stove untouched. He sighed and grabbed them a bag of chips and a thing of salsa. Did kids like salsa? Whatever, it was for him anyways.

Even with his internal complaining, ten minutes later he was standing next to Clarke in front of his neighbour's door, somewhere he never thought he would be, and about to freaking babysit children, something he never thought he'd do. It was like a goddamn episode of Sweet Valley High.

He sighed, but Clarke looked up at him and gave him a small smile that said both _I'm sorr_y, and _thank you_. And again, something unpleasant happened inside his gut.

_No_, Bellamy thought. Clarke Griffin wasn't the only one who couldn't say no.

* * *

"So, the kids should be in bed by 7:30, and certainly no later than 8. Tomorrow's a school day and when they're tired, they're cranky. And when they're cranky, I get phone calls from the teacher saying a child has glue in his hair, and mine has guilt written all over him. Although that hasn't happened since Aiden was 5, but still, you know what how kids can get!"

Clarke nodded, like she was absorbing all of this when truth be told she'd tuned out after in bed by 7:30. It was 4 now, so that gave them only about 3 and a half hours of babysitting. _This will be fine_, she told he self. How bad can three and a half hours be?

The kids themselves and Bellamy were nowhere to be found. Bellamy mad managed to sneak out of the tour / rule breakdown somewhere by the kitchen and Clarke hadn't been able to stop him. Truth be told she was surprised he'd even agreed to come. She'd fully been expecting him to tell her to lie in the bed she'd made, which was of course his initial reaction, but what she hadn't banked on was him giving in. She'd also be lying if she said she wasn't glad to have him here.

"And that's about everything!"

They'd made their way back to the kitchen where Bellamy was leaning against the counter and twisting his fingers around nervously, something she'd noticed he didn't a lot when he was anxious or agitated, or like now, a little bit of both.

"Thank you so much for doing this again Clarke, but I'd gotten a call earlier that Jack's mother was in the hospital, and with Jack still being away on business…"

Clarke stopped her, feeling uncomfortable with too much gratitude, "It's fine Mrs - Alana, really. I'm happy to do it."

Clarke heard Bellamy make a noise and she shot him a glare while Alana wasn't looking.

"Of course I tried calling the kids usual sitter, but she wasn't picking up, and I remembered that you mentioned you were a doctor and I just couldn't think of anyone better at such short notice. And then you told me Bellamy was a teacher!"

At that Bellamy's interest was piqued and he turned his stare to Clarke.

"Oh she did, did she?"

Yeah. She'd forgotten to tell him that part.

Alana continued, oblivious to any hostility coming from Bellamy. "You know Bellamy, you and I should have gotten to know each other a lot sooner!"

He fixed her with a smile that Clarke was pretty sure only she could tell was insincere, "Yeah, it's a real shame isn't it."

Alana beamed like she couldn't agree more. "Anyways, I know the kids will be in good hands with you two. If you need anything, Clarke, you have my cell. Gosh," Alana looked at her, "I am just so thankful that you have moved in."

Clarke grinned as genuinely as she could, not having the heart to tell the woman that her new found baby sitter would probably be gone before she knew it.

"Anyways I'm off, Charlotte, Aiden, be good for Bellamy and Clarke!"

Muffled responses came from upstairs, and then Alana was out the door leaving Bellamy and Clarke standing in her immaculate kitchen. The apartment was twice the size of theirs or more, and it was so homey feeling that Clarke felt like an intruder.

Bellamy was still looking at her.

"What?" she asked.

"You had to tell her I was a teacher?"

Clarke threw her hands up, "She asked! Was I supposed to lie? Besides, I'm pretty sure she thought you were something far less respectable than that."

"That's the point! Now that she knows, she'll be asking us to baby sit all the time!"

Clarke didn't miss the way he said us, and for a moment she felt guilty again. When she'd be gone it wouldn't be us anymore, it'd just be Bellamy. Something about that was hard to picture.

Clarke sighed, "Relax Bellamy it'll be fine." She walked out of the kitchen and headed up the stairs with him following her. Though it was muffled, she definitely heard him say, "Famous last words."

She walked into the first room where there were two kids, both blonde haired and fair skinned. They could have been twins had the boy, Aiden, not been obviously older than his younger sister Charlotte. And both were practically carbon copies of their mother. Bellamy let Clarke go in first after she knocked, while he conveniently managed to stay outside the room.

Clarke swallowed, not really knowing what to do or say, but was saved from awkward introductions when the young boy came up to her.

"You're the pretty doctor girl our mom told us about!"

Clarke smiled softly, "You can just call me Clarke."

Aiden's face went serious and he looked confused, "But I thought Clarke was a boy's name? We learnt about Lewis and Clarke in school ages ago, are you named after him?"

She heard Bellamy snort and she was tempted to kick him. Bellamy, of course. Not the kid.

"That's a good guess," she said, "but I'm actually named after someone else. My dad was really into science fiction and named me after one of his favourite author's, Arthur C. Clarke."

Aiden smiled at her, "That's cool Clarke, I like your name. You should tell your dad he picked a good one."

She smiled and ignored the familiar pang in her heart and hoped that the knot in her throat wasn't obvious as she replied, "I'll tell him that."

It was clearly enough to fool Aiden who went over to his sister, who'd had her nose buried in a book and pretend anyone else in the room didn't exist. It was not however enough to fool Bellamy who she could feel was looking at her with an intense stare.

"Come on Charlotte, come say hi to Clarke. You're being impolite."

Charlotte stood and looked at Clarke dubiously before turning and whispering something to her brother. He sighed and nodded and she picked up her book and left the room.

Clarke didn't press the issue. "Are you guys hungry? I could make you something to eat? Not that I'm a very good cook, but I do make a decent grilled cheese."

Aiden beamed, "I loved grilled cheese! Come on Clarke." And before she knew it he was pulling her hand and walking her out the door until he bumped into Bellamy's chest.

Aiden had to crane his head upwards to get a look at Bellamy, "Are you Bellamy?"

"The one and only," Bellamy replied sardonically to which Clarke internally groaned.

"Huh," Aiden paused thoughtfully, "I don't think you look like a drug dealer."

To which Clarke snorted and Bellamy just look dumbstruck. Oh yeah. She and this kid were going to get along just fine.

* * *

About a half hour later Bellamy was still upstairs doing god knows what, while Clarke had managed to make a grilled cheese.

Correction, she'd burned it, but this kid had the best manners she'd ever seen in an 8 year old and he ate the whole thing without complaint.

"Are you sure you don't want anything else?" she asked.

"No it's fine, I like them burnt!" And bless his heart she almost believed him.

"So you're a doctor Clarke? That's cool, do you get to cut people open ever? Do you ever faint because of the blood? Hey do you know what lymphoma is?"

Clarke paused by the sink where'd she'd been washing the dishes and pan even though Alana had told her not to worry about it.

She turned around to look at Aiden, "Where'd you hear about something like that?"

He shrugged, "I hear my mom and dad talking about it a lot. I think that's why my grandma's in the hospital today." He paused and then looked at her earnestly, "It's not good is it?"

Clarke sighed and came over to sit next to him, "Have your parents tried talking to you about this stuff?"

He shook his head, "No. They don't think we're old enough, especially Charlotte. Mom wants to take care of everything and keep us all happy all the time, but I hear things, and see them. And I worry all the same, especially about Charlotte."

She smiled, "You sound like a good brother."

"Do you have a brother?"

She shook her head, "No, but I had a best friend who was like a brother to me, and I have Bellamy's sister too, and she's practically my own sister."

Aiden nodded like he was mulling over her every word, "So if Bellamy's sister is your sister, wouldn't that make Bellamy like your brother."

Clarke's eyes probably grew a size or too and she laughed somewhat hysterically, because she'd never heard something more absurd in her life.

"No no no," she shook her head adamantly, "Bellamy is _definitely_ not my brother."

Aiden looked sad, "Oh. I'm sorry you don't have a brother Clarke."

Oh god this kid was too precious. She smiled and pat his head as he stood, "Thanks kid. But don't worry about me, sometimes having good friends is just as important as having a good family."

At that Bellamy walked in with a peculiar kind of smile plastered on his face, one that made her think he'd heard everything she'd just said.

"Couldn't have said it better myself Princess."

She almost didn't register the fact that there was a young blonde girl gripping his jeans with one hand and clinging to her book in the other. She tugged on his leg and Bellamy smiled down at her, and Clarke's breath was knocked right out of her.

"So Aiden," Bellamy started, "do you want some real food to eat."

Clarke narrowed her eyes at Bellamy, but Aiden remained loyal. "Clarke already made me food thank you very much."

Charlotte looked confused and she spoke for the first time in Clarke's presence, "But Bellamy said we had to come down and make sure you hadn't been poisoned?"

She shot him a dead pan stare, "Really Bellamy?"

He fired back a teasing grin, "Just trying to watch out for the kids _dear_."

Clarke rolled her eyes, but looked over at Aiden, "You should have something, seriously. Bellamy really is the better cook."

Aiden smiled sheepishly, but walked over to Bellamy with his small arms crossed over his chest, "We'll see about that."

He took his sister by the arm, who reluctantly let go of Bellamy's pant leg and followed her brother out to the living room.

"I see you've found a fan." Clarke noted.

Bellamy smiled again, "She's a smart kid."

Clarke looked at him quizzically, "Could this be? Bellamy Blake is actually having fun spending his time with children?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, "I never said fun."

Clarke grinned, "Oh you are so not fooling me."

Bellamy tuned around, "Get out of my kitchen woman, I have some real cooking to do."

"Hey! My grilled cheese was not that bad."

All he had to do was look at her without saying anything.

"Ok, yeah, it was awful. That kid's an angel for eating it and I should probably never cook for anyone again ever."

Bellamy laughed, "I'm starting to see why you brought me."

She stepped closer so that they were only about an arm's length away, "Yep, you've caught me, I'm exploiting you for your culinary prowess."

"Clarke!"

"I think your being summoned," he pointed out. And she couldn't help but feel it was a pity that was she was.

* * *

An hour later they were all sitting in the living room. Charlotte had gotten a hold of Bellamy again and was badgering him with questions. Clarke would peer over at the two of them more often than she liked, but she never got used to the sight she saw. It was like Bellamy was a completely different person around Charlotte, one she'd never gotten a glimpse of before. She was starting to think his whole hating kids thing was just an act. He'd be laughing every few minutes and he currently looked like he was animatedly telling a story, and she'd never seen him looked so excited.

"Clarke?"

She quickly turned her head back at Aiden who'd been showing her some of his favourite comic books.

"Sorry!" she said, "What'd you say."

The kid looked at her knowingly and looked over to his sister and Bellamy. "Charlotte likes him, she doesn't like most people."

"Why not?"

Aiden shrugged, "Charlotte's shy, she's always been."

"And you're not?"

Aiden laughed, "No, mom always tells me I actually talk to people _too _much. But that's why I'm running to be class president."

If Clarke had been drinking something she would have probably choked.

"You're running for class president? But you're eight!"

He looked at her blankly, "So?"

She shook her head, "No no I think that's great. I just never remember having elections back when I was that young."

Aiden smiled and she could see a spark light up his eye, "We're having elections because were learning about democracy. Our teacher says its to help us understand the election going on in Washington. She believes in "learning through experience"."

Clarke laughed thinking this was just about the most adorably serious thing she'd ever heard. "All right then, so what's your platform."

Aiden straightened up, "Well, I want us to get a class pet. Miss Anya's class has a pet hermit crab, and I don't think it's fair that one class has something another doesn't."

Clarke nodded, "Sounds logical to me." And with that Aiden looked incredibly pleased with himself.

"I also want to bring in more comics from the library, and soccer and foot balls for recess and free time."

"Why's that?" Clarke asked.

Aiden shrugged, "All the boys always take them first, and some of the boys in my class don't let the girls play with them. They say that they can't actually play sports, but I think they're just scared of getting beaten by them, and that's not fair is it Clarke?"

Clarke smiled, "You're a smart kid Aiden. I think people would be making a big mistake not to vote for you."

He beamed, "Thanks Clarke."

"So what made you want to do the election in the first place."

Aiden looked down at the ground, "I think that things should be fair for everyone and I want to help my friends and everyone else in the class, just like how I help Charlotte, and how Captain America, and the Flash, and Wonder Woman help people too. Isn't that what you do Clarke? You help people right?"

She smiled, "I try to."

He nodded his head, "Well I want to try to, too."

She looked at him and felt something so warm and peaceful flood through her she almost could have cried in that moment. "Hey," she said, "Why don't you bring me some pencil crayons and paper ok? I'm going to draw you something."

He came back and Clarke moved to lean against the wall while he sat on the coach.

"Ok, now try not to move too much."

About twenty minutes later she was done.

"Do you want to see?" she asked and Aiden nodded enthusiastically. She got up and walked over to him

She could see Bellamy looking over at them curiously, but his attention was quickly diverted back to the 5 year old sitting in his lap.

"Ok, here it goes." she said and flipped the paper around so Aiden could see.

She'd drawn him as a super hero, not a carbon copy of any old Captain America or Spiderman, but something unique. Something just for him. He looked at it in awe, and held the paper gently in his hands like it was something that could break. She didn't show her art to a lot of people, but out of every reaction she'd ever gotten to a drawing or painting, this had to be the best. By far.

"You like it?" she asked.

He didn't respond with words. Instead before she knew what was happening, Aiden had wrapped his arms around her neck and was squeezing her tightly. She was stunned, but eventually her brained clued into the fact that now would probably be the time to reciprocate. She hugged him back and smiled. Before letting go she looked up and met Bellamy's gaze which was fixed on her and Aiden, looking at them with an expression that she didn't know how to name.

* * *

It was past nine and they were sitting on the couch, just the two of them, flipping mindlessly through muted channels on the television. Clarke balanced a bowl in her lap while she ate the soup that Bellamy had popped out to get from their own apartment. She hadn't even entertained the thought that he wouldn't come back.

He was sitting next to her silently, thumbing through the pages of the book that Charlotte had been reading earlier. Or that he'd been reading to her. Clarke wasn't really sure which.

He must have felt her eyes on him because he turned to look at her questioningly.

"What?"

She cursed the fact that she felt heat rise to her cheeks, but maintained eye contact and spoke.

"I never would have guessed it."

He raised a brow.

"Guessed… what?"

Clarke put the bowl onto the table and turned so she was sitting cross legged on the couch and was facing him. "How you'd be with Charlotte. I've never seen you like that."

Bellamy turned away, "Well she's a good kid. And significantly less annoying that Octavia was at that age."

She laughed, but cut herself off, wanting to be as quiet as possible. She was sure the kids were already asleep, but still. She didn't want to face the wrath of a mother whose child was up past bed time.

"They're not that different. She's got a protective brother just like O does."

Bellamy's lip curled up into a thoughtful half smile, "Yeah, she talked about him like he hung the moon."

"You know O would talk about you the same way? Even before we were really friends, she'd never shut up about her pain in the ass brother who'd done everything for her."

She could tell her tried to hide it, but Clarke could see that her words had had an affect, and after a small while he let out a sigh.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Must be nice hmm? To be a kid. Not having to worry about what tomorrow's going to bring or the mess you leave behind today."

Clarke was about to nod, but then she remembered what Aiden had asked about his grandmother, and it pained her to realize that not even someone so young and innocent could really be worry free.

"I'm not so sure it's that easy," she replied, "I'm pretty sure Aiden already feels like he's got the world resting on his shoulders."

Bellamy looked at her, "Is that why you drew him?"

She nodded, "I thought he'd like it. I guess I wanted to remind him that sometimes it's ok for a kid to be their own hero, you know?"

"What about you Clarke?" The way he said her same, more softly and earnestly than he ever had before sent a shiver down her spine, "Who are the great Dr. Griffin's heroes."

She swallowed past the knot that had reformed in her throat and closed her eyes tightly before opening them again and staring blankly at the screen. "Hero. I've only ever had just the one."

There was a long pause between them and it felt like Bellamy was deciding whether or not to say something. And Clarke was pretty sure she knew what he would say.

"Your dad."

She nodded.

She could feel the pang in her chest growing stronger, the one that she tried to push to the side as much as she could. It'd been 8 years since her father had passed, and over time the pain did dull. It never really went away, but it'd become something she lived with day in and day out. But bringing it to the surface like this, Clarke was sure she was going to lose it and she didn't want to break down. Not now.

But Bellamy didn't press her. Didn't ask her about him, didn't ask why. They just sat there in silence while tears pooled in her eyes. Ones she thanked him for pretending not to see. The same way they'd pretended that night on the bus.

Gently, he squeezed her knee with his hand and circled his thumb is soothing circles along it. She felt the pressure of his hand and she felt something shoot through her like a kind of shock. Her heart began to beat faster, but slowly she felt to relax to the rhythmic motion of his thumb, and though it scared her to think it, she didn't want him to let go. But he did, only to squeeze her hand which was laying in a closed fist on the couch. It opened under his pressure and he began to repeat the motions again.

"I think," he started, and she finally looked at him. He wasn't looking at her though, but staring at their hands.

"I think, your dad would have been beyond proud of you Clarke."

There it was again, her name on his lips. Her hand underneath his, and her eyes glued to his unfairly beautiful face.

And she finally found herself able to let go. It started with her cheeks dampening and her first closing up again, and finally her shoulders were shaking and she couldn't hold back the sobs.

She didn't really know who moved, whether it was her or him, but somehow Bellamy's arm ended up around her and she was sobbing into his shoulder. _Great_ she thought, _this is exactly how I wanted the day to end_. They didn't sit there melodramatically all night, but after about a minute Clarke pulled herself together and wiped frantically at her eyes.

"God I'm sorry," she said, "I'm such a mess."

He let out a small laugh, "Yeah. But, just a little bit."

She groaned and shoved him, "Oh shut up."

Bellamy laughed again and resettled back into his previous position and Clarke stretched her legs out as well so they were sitting side by side.

"I take it back, you're not too nice, in fact there's not a nice bone in your body."

She smiled, "well then I guess my work here is done."

He looked at her strangely for a moment and said, "So is mine." But for the life of her she couldn't figure out what it meant.

"So," he asked, "you think were going to get sucked into doing this again."

Clarke shrugged, "Probably," and after a moment, "would that be so bad?"

Silence. And then, "No. It wouldn't."

* * *

**A/N 2: **So for creative freedom's sake let's just pretend that Aiden and Charlotte are actually siblings (mainly because I love him on the show and wanted to throw in Bellamy and Clarke with kids somehow). And let's also pretend that Charlotte hasn't murdered anyone and Bellamy makes better life decisions than giving a knife to a child.


	17. Chapter 17 - It's Platonic

It's Platonic

"God Octavia what the hell is this?"

Clarke's face puckered up into what she was sure was one of her less attractive expressions as she reluctantly swallowed the obnoxiously sweet drink. It was a Saturday night and she'd been coerced into coming to the Ark - O had practically talked her ear off all week about this new group she'd claimed she'd discovered that Clarke just had to hear. To be perfectly honest though it hadn't taken much convincing - work had been one stress after another as per usual. To make matters worse Murphy had been acting weirder than usual - frankly speaking she was peeved at the fact that even when he wasn't annoying her verbally he still found a way to get under her skin.

O crossed her arms defensively and frowned, "What? You said you wanted a fruity drink. Voila - _fruity drink_."

Clarke set the drink down on the bar and picked up a nearby glass of water to diffuse the taste from her mouth.

"Fruity - yes, drowning in sucrose? Not so much."

Octavia rolled her eyes, "Don't be such a baby," and picked up the pale orange drink and took an equally tortured sip of her own.

"Gah!," she squealed as she spit the drink back in the glass, "What the fuck?"

Clarke laughed, "How graceful of you."

O swiped at her mouth, "What the hell did I do wrong? Gina!"

The pretty older brunette served a customer a drink and made her way over to where O was standing behind the opposite end of the bar.

Gina smirked, "You hollered?"

Octavia pouted, "These damn drinks keep not coming out right."

"Oh it's the drink's fault is it?" Clarke said pointedly which earned a laugh from Gina and a murderous glare from Octavia.

"I'm going to take the high road and choose to actively ignore that."

She turned back to look at Gina who already had customers at the other end of the bar waiting. The woman smiled, "Relax Octavia, it'll come with time. I'm pretty sure I almost poisoned half my friend group when I was first learning to tend, so don't worry about it. Besides the band's just about done setting up anyways, you're needed much more elsewhere."

Octavia grinned, "Gina that was the nicest "get the fuck out from behind my bar" I've ever heard."

She waved a bashful hand, "I try. You want anything else," she raised her chin in Clarke's direction to which Clarke replied, "I'll have whatever _that _was actually supposed to be."

Gina laughed and set to work, "Got it."

Clarke smiled and looked at O whose arms were still crossed, "Was that necessary?"

She shrugged in reply, "It's not me it's you."

"Hate you," her best friend muttered half heartedly as she started wiping down the end of the bar she'd been working at just as Bellamy walked into the Ark and made his way over to them.

Clarke met his eyes first and his face morphed into the smile she'd been growing more and more intimately familiar with over the past couple of months. In an unexpected turn of events she'd also been growing familiar with the knot that formed in her stomach whenever she caught him gazing in her direction. She shook it off as he approached and leaned his elbow against the bar next to her.

"And here I was thinking you were dead in a ditch somewhere," he gibed teasingly.

She knew he was referencing the fact that it'd been over two days since they'd last seen each other, and even though Clarke would never admit it to her it somehow felt longer. The past couple of days had been draining without having somewhere and someone to come home to that kept her sane and took her mind off of everything.

Clarke rolled her eyes, "Another workaholic joke, colour me surprised."

"Well if the shoe fits…"

She swiped at his arm which evoked a laugh and a placating, "Relax Princess. I'm no better."

She scoffed, "Oh how refreshing to see you acknowledging your flaws."

He leaned in closer still and she could feel that they were dangerously close to invading each other's personal space.

His voice lowered, "Well they are so few and far between."

Clarke opened her mouth to reply when a cough from a certain eavesdropping someone took both of their attention. O was standing there looking at the two of them with a knowing look and Clarke was just about ready to go dig a hole and bury herself in it.

"Hey big brother long time no see."

He flashed her an unimpressed stare, "Octavia it's been a week."

Octavia's eyes narrowed mischievously, "Sure has, and yet I don't see any concern over my ditch bound rotting corpse."

Bellamy rolled his eyes and muttered something unintelligible under his breath, although it didn't take a genius to figure out that it was nothing flattering.

"Relax Bellamy, you could use a drink. Here."

She shoved the glorified diabetes in a cup concoction over to Bellamy who eyed it suspiciously and the moment O had turned her back he was looking at Clarke with a raised brow. She answered his silent question with a shake of her head while mouthing a _NO_. Bellamy snorted before responding, "Nothing for me tonight O, I'll just stick with water."

Octavia finally admitted defeat and spilled the remnants of the drink into the trash, "Boo you're no fun."

"Well at least I'm consistent."

At that moment Gina returned and handed Clarke a much more appealing drink along with a coffee for Octavia. O cupped the coffee like it was her first born child, "You are a god sent, an angel sent from above."

Clarke almost missed the way Gina barely registered the comment and kept glancing her eyes at Bellamy who seemed to be oblivious to the fact that a gorgeous girl was giving him eyes. Almost.

"And what about you Bell? The usual?"

_The usual? __Bell?_

He met her eyes and coughed, a nervous hand rubbing the back of his neck, "Uh no that's fine Gina thanks, nothing for tonight." He craned his head towards the direction where Lincoln and a group of people whom Clarke didn't recognize were standing. "I should say hi to the guys," he said returning his attention to them, he smiled at all three of them, "I'll catch up with you later."

Gina shrugged nonchalantly and returned back to work. A moment later Clarke had a familiar arm hooked through hers, "Earth to Griffin, come on let's go to the stage."

Clarke grabbed her drink and stole a quick glance at Bellamy who was now animatedly involved in conversation with Lincoln. She knew it was irrational and completely out of line, but for some reason the mood of the night seemed to have changed for her, making her feel almost deflated. Like an expectation she didn't even know she had, hadn't been met.

"Coming," she muttered, taking a long sip and following Octavia. Whatever the hell this drink was it was definitely stronger than what O had made. Somehow she had the feeling that stronger was exactly what she was going to be needing.

"Hey guys," Octavia started as she led her behind piles of equipment, "this is Clarke."

Clarke stopped mid sip as she was faced with what looked to be 2 very much underaged teenagers. One was scrawny and taller than the other and donned some very interesting fashion choices, the most notable being a pair of goggles on the top of his head, while the other looked like he should be kept away from all things dangerous at any cost. The tall one came up to her first with an extended hand and cock of his head.

"Sup."

Octavia groaned and the other boy got up from tinkering with the speaker and shook him out of the way, "Hey Clarke, it's great to meet you. Octavia talks about you all the time, it's almost annoying really." He said it with a smile which put Clarke at ease.

"Well I doubt it's anything flattering."

Octavia gasped, "I'll have you know I take offence to that. What kind of a person do you take me for?"

Clarke raised an accusatory brow and glanced back at her knowingly, "The kind who once told a guy at a bar I had a drug problem, was a recovering alcoholic and had just been released on parol, all because she wanted to hook up with him instead."

Octavia waved her comment away with a hand, "He wasn't your type."

Jasper laughed and wrapped an arm around Octavia's shoulder, "That's my Octavia."

Clarke watched along with amusement as Octavia glared cooly at the boy, "Jasper. You like this arm?"

He slowly lifted it off and put his hands out in defense. O smirked triumphantly, "That's what I thought. Anyways Clarke this idiot, not you Monty, is Jasper and the other's Monty otherwise known as?"

Monty finished for her, "this week it's the Dropship."

Octavia laughed, "Well good because that's what I went with on the posters."

Clarke looked between the two of them, "So how old are you guys anyway?"

Jasper groaned, "God, why do people always ask us that?"

His friend studied him for a moment before concluding, "Well I could be wrong, but I'm gonna go with the fact that it's because you look like Fresh Prince era Will Smith got locked up in a science lab."

Jasper frowned, "Dude."

"Hey I like it!"

Clarke laughed and stepped in, "I'd say it's more so to do with the fact that you look obviously adolescent."

"Well they are adolescent," Octavia confirmed, "I'm surprised Bellamy hasn't told you about these guys actually."

Clarke frowned and wracked her brain until she remembered that day in the hospital weeks ago. The whole thing had been such a blur, but through the drama she remembered sitting in the room waiting for the antibiotic drip to finish up while Bellamy ranted about two delinquents that he almost suspended.

She laughed when she pictured his disgruntled expression, "Oh my god of course, the miscreants who ditched school to flirt with his sister."

At that both boys flushed, but Clarke continued, "Hey I don't blame you."

"Thanks babe, anyways," she relinked her arm with Clarke's, "you two carry on setting up - Griffin and I are gonna chill back here for a while so you can holler at me if you need me."

"Thanks Octavia!" they called out, and Clarke managed to catch the beginning of their conversation as her and O walked away.

"The Miscreants.. I like that!"

"So they seem, enthusiastic," Clarke noted as she sat down on a old broken speaker O had yet to replace.

O hopped onto an extra bar stool they kept in the back and snorted, "Yeah, that's the word for it. Seriously they're really great. A little over zealous maybe, but wait till you hear them."

"Is that why you didn't tell Bellamy that kids from his school kept skipping?"

O grinned teasingly, "What can I say, I love me some rebellion. And deep down Bellamy does too and _speaking _of dear old brother, what's the deal with you two anyways?"

Clarke took another longer than necessary sip from her drink, she could already feel the familiar haziness and lack of inhibition setting in and she knew that sooner rather than later her words were going to be slipping out far easier than she would like.

"Are you insinuating something?" she asked pointedly.

"Me? Making insinuations about your love life? Never," O drawled out sarcastically.

"Don't be a dick Octavia," she fired back sternly, but not maliciously.

"Then don't be so defensive!"

"Then don't be annoying! Besides, there's nothing going on between me and Bellamy." Nothing expect for the fact that before she'd even had a moment to register it he'd become the first person she texted when something ridiculous happened, and the first person who's face popped into her mind when she needed to think of something good. But that was normal when people got closer and lived together. Of course they were going to form some sort of connection after spending so much time in close quarters, it was completely normal… wasn't it?

"Uh huh, right, so that's why you two practically looked like lovers reuniting after the war the second he walked into the Ark."

"That's just you being overdramatic," Clarke brushed off as nonchalantly as she could, actively ignoring the embarrassment she felt that Octavia had even noticed in the first place.

"No that's me having eyes."

Clarke groaned and downed the rest of her drink, having already had far too much of this conversation. She hated talking about feelings, always had, especially ones that she didn't even herself understand. It'd always been like this between the two of them. O would spill and Clarke would bottle up. Usually the whole opposites thing brought out the best in each other, but tonight she didn't want to be pushed.

Finally she sighed and with as much finality as she could said, "Oh please Octavia, we're just friends. It's strictly platonic."

Octavia snorted, "Ah yes '_platonic_'. Platonic flirting, platonic intense gazing into each others eyes, platonic stealing glances at the other when you think they're not looking."

"O…"

"Oh wait, I wasn't finished. There's also platonic dramatically running to the emergency room when they think the others injured, and my new personal favourite, platonic jealously."

Clarke huffed, "Well now that is just silly is what that is." She could feel her cheeks getting redder by the second as she got more worked up.

Octavia laughed and came down to wrap an arm around her shoulder, "Relax Clarkey I'm just teasing you. I'll let you live in denial if you want."

"I hate you." she muttered.

"You loveeee me."

O plopped down on the floor across from Clarke who if she was being honest could already feel the effects of alcohol on her brain. What the hell had Gina put into that drink? As soon as the thought of Gina had popped back into her head Clarke's expression soured slightly and before she could stop herself,

"So what's the deal with her and Bellamy anyways?"

Octavia looked confused, "Her? Who the - OH you mean Gina?"

Clarke tried to act nonchalant although she was pretty sure she just looked like she had a lazy eye, "Yeah Gina, they seemed… close?"

Octavia shook her head in disbelief and tsked at her knowingly, "Oh babe you are so transparent."

Clarke lifted her chin, "I am fully opaque thank you very much."

O laughed, "I don't know, despite my pestering Bell doesn't exactly tell me much about his love life. He's kind of a closed book, like a certain _someone_ else I know." Clarke ignored what felt like her billionth look of the night.

"Anyways from what I've pieced together I think they dated casually a while back, nothing serious though. They're still cool now though, it was actually Bellamy who told me to hire her as a bartender after the last guy quit."

Ah. So that explained the eyes, the neck, and the "the usual." What it didn't explain though was the fact that Clarke was still grimacing.

Clarke stood up abruptly, "We're being antisocial we should go. And I could use another one of those drinks."

"Whatever you say, you won't find me stopping you."

Clarke giggled and leaned against her friend, "See, I knew there was a reason I keep you around."

"Uh huh ok, hi ho Happy, let's get your in denial ass back out there."

"I am not in denial!"

"You keep telling yourself that babe."

They stepped out to a crowd that had significantly thickened to when they went backstage, which was a given since it was now close to 10 and the show started in a few minutes. Clarke looked through the crowd to spot a familiar face and finally saw Lincoln along with a group of people near the stairs.

Octavia ran up and hugged him around the middle, "Missed me?"

Lincoln smiled softly and placed a tender kiss a top her forehead, "Always." The brief moment felt so intimate that Clarke almost felt compelled to look away. Lincoln looked up, "Hey Clarke good to see you again. I'm surprised you came out, Bellamy here tells me you've been working around the clock."

Clarke nodded lamentably, "Yes well that does tend to happen when you don't have a 9 - 5 and people seem to think you can run on no sleep."

Bellamy laughed, "Well if anyone can it'd be you with all that coffee you ingest."

She whipped towards him, "Hey you leave coffee out of this!"

He smirked and nudged Lincoln, "She's an addict."

A man she'd never seen before came up to them as well, "Did I hear someone say coffee?"

"I should have known you'd come running at that - Miller this is Clarke. Clarke, Miller. Frying pan meet fire - if there's anyone worse than you it'd be him"

The striking man smiled and shook Clarke's hand, "So this is the infamous Clarke Griffin." It could have been the alcohol, but a second she could have sworn she saw Bellamy's eyes widen and cheeks don a faint blush. "Don't listen to him Clarke, he's a prude."

Lincoln and Bellamy scoffed at the same time, "Ok not like that! You know what I meant. Anyways, we addicts got to stick together. And speaking of vices, who wants another round before we go upstairs and meet Monroe and Harp?"

O glanced down at her phone screen, "I'm out sorry Miller, I need to go introduce the band in a few."

"I'll stay with you," Lincoln said.

"Ok fine so that leaves you, me and Bellamy - what do you say Blake?"

Bellamy shook his head ruefully, "Not this time." Miller shrugged, "suit yourself - hey Gina! Can we get 4 shots for upstairs?"

Even though the bar was only a few feet away Miller was practically yelling over the noise. It'd been a while since Clarke had come out to the Ark on a busy night and she'd forgotten what kind of a zoo the place could get. She couldn't entirely make out Gina's response, but she was pretty sure it went something along the lines of "you can wait for it yourself."

Miller sighed, "Fine I'll pick em up, you guys go ahead"

Bellamy nudged her, "Come on let's go."

Clarke turned to follow him, but lost her balance at the first step and nearly fell flat on her face only to be caught around the waist by a certain someone's strong arm. She gripped his forearm as he twisted her around with an amused look on her face. Beneath her hands she could feel the hardness of his muscle and she practically had to force herself to get it together. God what was happening to her.

"Already had a couple too many have we Princess?"

She rolled her eyes, "Just the one actually. And you can thank your ex for that - she sure knows how to make them strong."

Bellamy released her slowly and paused, peering down at her curiously before shaking his head. "Yeah that sounds like a signature Gina drink. You think you can hobble the rest of the way."

"Yes Bellamy I'm not an invalid."

"Could have fooled me." He stepped aside to let her walk ahead while she muttered "Jackass" just loud enough for him to hear.

She reached the landing at the top of the stairs and was met with two bodies sitting close together on the loveseat couch. "Hey!" The blonde girl cried out, "You must be Clarke! Bellamy's told us a lot about you," the second girl pinched her subtly, "ow, gah, and Octavia obviously. I'm Harper by the way and this is my girlfriend Monroe."

Monroe smiled lazily, "I'd stand up and shake your hand if — "

"If she wasn't stoned out of her mind," Harper finished for her.

Clarke laughed and moved to sit across from them on the couch while Bellamy leaned against the balcony.

Clarke looked around the group - "so how do you guys all know each other?"

Harper answered, "Well Miller and Bell go way back to the college days."

"He was a pain in the ass roommate is what he was," Bellamy corrected.

"Shush Bellamy," she said before continuing, "anyways that was college. Then Monroe knows Miller from the coast guard."

"You're coast guard?" Clarke remarked, "Damn that's seriously badass."

Monroe brushed off the comment, "Bah it's nothing."

"She's modest, it's annoying, but then to tie it all together I met these guys through Miller's boyfriend Bryan who I've known since we were 6. And yeah that just about wraps it up!"

Clarke looked at them curiously and snuck a glance at Bellamy who was smiling at his friends. She caught herself staring at the planes of his face, and she realized that she'd never really seen him so at ease before. So in his element and so relaxed. He fit with these people and Clarke couldn't help but feel confused at the fact that these past couple of months she'd gotten to know him so well without really getting know him at all. There were whole parts of his life she didn't know anything about, and that frustrated her. It frustrated her a lot.

She wanted to know him, she realized. She wanted to know everything.

"So what do you do Harper?" she asked.

Bellamy cut in, "Harp here is an actress who just landed a role, the _lead_ might I add, in a show."

"That's amazing!"

Harper beamed at the praise, "Thanks man, it opens in a couple of weeks you guys definitely have to come and see it! I'll grab an extra ticket for you. If you want to of course, but you should want to, I'm awesome."

Clarke laughed, "Sounds good to me."

At that moment Miller came up with a tray of shots of God knows what, and Clarke honestly didn't want to know.

He started chatting away with Harper and Monroe and Clarke took that as her moment to get up and join Bellamy by the balcony. He was staring down at the crowd balancing his glass of water on the rim. Clarke started tracing patterns with the ring of condensation that had formed and noticed him watching her fingers as she worked.

"You know you really should be using a coaster," she blurted out.

He breathed out and bowed his head, "Ever the responsible one even under the influence aren't you?"

"At least I'm consistent", she mocked. There was a pause and a moment of silence between them. "Your friends seem great by the way, but — "

He turned towards her and frowned, "but what?"

Clarke sighed, not entirely sure where she was going with this, "You never really talk about them much though? I mean it's fine if you don't want to. Well I guess of course you do talk about them, maybe just not to me, which is totally fine —,"

"Are you through?"

She closed her mouth and he smirked, "Relax Clarke, don't be offended. I guess it's just not the most natural thing in the world for me to… share."

Clarke felt herself deflate, she was sure the alcohol was making her read too much into the comment, but she couldn't help but feel the blow. He must have noticed the change in her expression, of course he noticed, damn infuriating idiot noticed just about everything lately. It unsettled her how well he could read her. Unsettled, and comforted, which unsettled her even more. _Nice Clarke_, she thought, _your life has become a damn positive feedback loop_.

"I didn't mean it like that," his voice was softer now, "I just mean that it isn't easy for me to talk about things like that… personal things. Never has been. Besides I don't get to see them as much anymore, so there's not much to talk about."

Clarke nodded in understanding, "Bellamy you don't have to explain yourself, I get it." The air between them felt heavy with things unspoken. Things unspoken, and yet somehow perfectly understood.

"So," she said to break the silence, "You told your friends about me."

Bellamy coughed and ran a hand through his hair while taking a gulp of water, "I may have mentioned you once or twice."

"Don't listen to him Clarke!" Harper called out, "He doesn't shut up - Ow! Monroe geez stop with the pinching."

Clarke snickered, "You were saying?"

Bellamy groaned, "In my defense most of the time it was because of how much you were annoying me back when we used to hate each other."

"Ah the good ol days," Clarke reminisced with some not so pleasant nostalgia.

"Keen to revisit them?" he joked.

Clarke cringed, "Yeah, maybe not."

At that moment O came onto the stage to introduce Jasper and Monty with the resident Ark drummer and guitarist. The two came on with the confidence of aged professionals, like they'd been doing this for years. Under the lights Jasper's… eccentric… outfit popped and the moment the music started it was like they came alive.

They went through song after song, and for someone so seemingly harmless, Monty had a killer voice that was for sure. As they went on and on Clarke found herself swaying to the music along with Miller and Harper who had joined them. It was loud now so no one really spoke, but from time to time she'd steel a glance at Bellamy who, for lack of a better description, looked exactly like a proud father watching his two kids on the stage below. She smiled softly to herself and thought of times when she had people around to be proud of her too.

The first set ended and Miller turned around to get the shots they'd yet to drink.

Bellamy poked at her shoulder, "You see that guy with the green hair."

"The drummer? Uh yes, kind of hard to miss."

"That was one of the stellar roommates my sister almost set me up with."

Clarke laughed, "Oh god I can just imagine. You'd have killed him after a day - figuratively of course."

Bellamy snorted, "Of course."

"Although… for a while there you and I almost killed each other too, maybe you two would have worked it out. Turned into the dream team. Ever regret not giving him a chance?"

His gaze turned from playful to confident and steady as it bore into her eyes. "No." Clarke's breath hitched and for a split second she wished to god they weren't standing on a balcony surrounded by people around and below them.

Miller thankfully broke the moment by separating them with the tray.

"Come on Clarke, everyone else has already got their's. You ready?"

She picked up the pale liquid and gave it a sniff. Yep. Smelled like alcohol. Who'd have thought?

"What even is this?"

"Who cares," Miller laughed, "as long as it's strong."

Monroe called from her spot, "A - fucking - men."

Clarke grinned and brought it to her lips and braced herself for the stinging that had become slightly less natural since her college days with Octavia."

"Gahh," she cringed.

Bellamy looked at her like he was about to be entertained.

"You are so going to regret that."

She looked at him smugly, even though she knew he was right, "Well it's like you said,"

No one was paying attention to them now, Miller was back with Harper and Monroe and for a moment it felt like it was just the two of them. Maybe it was the alcohol in her system, maybe it was the fact that she'd been itching to get closer to him all night, but before the rational part of her brain could stop herself Clarke leaned up. She balanced one arm against the balcony as she lifted herself high enough to reach his ear, close enough that if either of them moved they'd be chest to chest. She could tell that he'd stopped breathing.

"What's wrong with a little chaos?"

* * *

2 hours later it was midnight and Bellamy was tailing behind his drunken group of idiots with an amused, but also exasperated expression on his face. Miller and Clarke had quickly decided that the only thing they wanted to do in their current state was dance.

And so they did - and it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever had the misfortune of witnessing. Clarke Griffin might be good at just about every damn thing life threw her way, but rhythm was clearly not something she'd been blessed with.

By now the night had practically wrapped up, or at least was starting to. Jasper and Monty were mingling and drinking what he hoped better be virgin margaritas while chatting with some business people that O had managed to rope into coming tonight. By the looks on their faces Bellamy thought it was safe to say they were going well.

Octavia came up to him with Lincoln toe in toe, "So, what'd you think?"

"They were ok," Bellamy said which caused her to slap his arm, "Ok ok fine I admit it, they're great. You on the other hand still suck for not telling me and being an accomplice."

She smiled cheekily, "What did you expect? You know I've always been a fan of disobedience."

He scowled, "Yes I'm intimately familiar with that personality trait of yours thank you very much."

She laughed, "So how's drunky?"

Bellamy looked over to where Clarke and Miller were now draped over each other telling what were in all likelihood awful jokes, but seemed to be making their drunk selves die of laughter. Even so though he couldn't stop the lines on his face from softening ever so slightly when he saw them, something about it put him at ease.

"Drunky is clearly having a blast."

He turned away to look back at Octavia and Lincoln who were both staring at him curiously.

"What?"

Before his sister had a chance to respond the gang reassembled around them, Clarke was now draped across Octavia who looked like she wanted to swat her off like a fly.

"Ugh I forgot how touchy feely you get when you're drunk."

Clarke's mouth split into a sloppy grin, "You loveeeee me."

"Yeah, yeah you keep telling yourself that," his sister looked back up at him, "Bell you got this one?"

Clarke pouted, "But I thought we were going dancing?"

Miller mirrored her expression, "Yeah Bellamy what about dancing?"

"Miller you can't dance for shit and Princess I think I speak for everyone here when I say that's a terrible idea."

Clarke sighed and resigned herself while letting lose one of her louder more obnoxious yawns, "Fine - as long as we get Chipotle on the way."

Bellamy laughed, "Whatever you want." as she sauntered off to follow Miller and Harper to wherever they'd left their coats. He had a feeling their search would probably end in vain.

Lincoln looked entertained, "So when are you planning on telling her that Chipotle's closed?"

"I'm betting on the fact she'll probably forget the second we leave," he craned over his neck but the group had already disappeared. "Anyways we should get going. You did a hell of a great thing here little sis — I might even be impressed."

Octavia rolled her eyes, "Please, don't over exert yourself with the flattery."

He laughed, "Wouldn't dream of it." He nodded to Lincoln and turned to follow his friends when Octavia stopped him.

"Bellamy wait — have you asked Clarke about next weekend yet?"

He knit his brows together and swallowed. No he hadn't. Next week was Thanksgiving and Octavia had gotten it into her head that they should invite Clarke. He had no idea what her family situation was like, but from what he'd milked out of Octavia it seemed like a Griffin family reunion had been out of the picture for sometime now.

Not that his and O's traditions were any better. Back when she'd been in college, he'd driven down to Cali for the weekend whenever he could and the two of them would spend a stupid day together, fishing, hiking, trying to forget about the fact that they were practically all they had left. But this year O and Lincoln had decided that they were actually going to give a crap about Thanksgiving and the whole thing was turning into an unnecessary affair if you asked him.

"No I haven't," he grumbled.

Octavia looked unimpressed, "Bellamy, just suck it up and ask her already."

To be fair he'd been trying to figure out how to broach the subject all week, at least the parts of the week when he'd seen her. The whole situation made him feel awkward though, how exactly was he expected to broach the subject naturally. _Hey Clarke, I know you're family life sucks and you're probably spending Thanksgiving alone so..._

He shook his head, "Fine, fine, I'll ask her tomorrow once she sobers up." He frowned, "I still don't see why you can't just tell her about it yourself."

He didn't recognize the look that flashed between his sister and her boyfriend, but when she turned back to face him she said, "I think it should be you."

He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, "I still don't get why."

At that moment Clarke returned, donning what was definitely not her coat, but looked very proud to have found it anyways.

Octavia leaned up and gave him a peck on the cheek, "You will."

* * *

Octavia and Lincoln watched as Bellamy had to argue with a very persistent Clarke to persuade her to return the poor stranger's jacket. Her gaze was stern, but Octavia didn't miss the way his lips were tightened in an attempt to keep them from stretching into a smile. She studied the way her brother finally burst out laughing when Clarke resigned herself and threw her arms out in front of her as she let him pull the coat off her.

In a moment he returned with Clarke's actual coat and held it out for her to lace her arms in. Octavia also didn't miss the way his eyes were glued to the blonde and the way he tentatively reached out to pull her hair out form beneath the collar it'd been stuck under. Even though Clarke was already flushed from the alcohol, damn lightweight, Octavia could have sworn she saw her best friend blush.

Lincoln, whose arm was wrapped around her shoulder gave it a squeeze and leaned into her neck.

"Now _what _is going on between those two."

Octavia smiled knowingly as she watched them walk out of the Ark together. She twisted and stared up at Lincoln and pecked him on the cheek, before turning back around and pulling his arms around her closer.

"Something _platonic_ probably."

He laughed, "Platonic enough for us to meddle in?"

"Oh absolutely. But first," she thought about the fact that for the first time in god knows how long Bellamy seemed to be smiling more than not and the fact that he was walking around like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Though she never would have seen it coming in a million years, maybe Clarke Griffin would be her brother's something good.

"Let's let them be idiots for a little while longer."

* * *

**A/N : **So I've finally gotten around to updating this again... not much happened in this chapter plot wise, but that's kind of intentional as shit will definitely be hitting the fan next chapter. I really wanted this chapter to be all about everyone noticing things happening between Bellamy and Clarke, except for the two of them that is... typical. Anyways I hope you guys enjoyed the update! It was hard to get inspired to write for a while... mainly because this show had been going to shit for a little while in my personal opinion. BUT that being said these past couple of episodes have finally been feeling like the old days, back to S1 and early S2 and it got me feeling some kind of way again :) Plot wise I have the rest just about all figured out and I'm aiming to wrap things up in about another 8 - 10 or so chapters, so we'll see how that pans out (I'm not exactly the best at sticking to the plan). As always thank you so much for reading and reviewing this story and hopefully it won't take me too long to finish writing the next bit!


	18. Chapter 18 - The Secrets We Keep

The Secrets We Keep

Clarke woke with a headache and an overwhelming urge to vomit. Feeling an unfortunately accurate case of college deja vu coming on, she stumbled off of the coach she must have decided was as far as her drunk ass could get last night and headed to washroom where the toilet bowl was the purest damn thing to ever grace her eyes.

After puking up the night before and remembering why the hell she hated drinking, she looked at herself in the mirror, cringed, and brushed teeth and washed her face. She grabbed a makeup wipe and scrubbed away the remains of what clung to her skin and was almost able to convince herself she felt better once she was fresh faced. She brushed her teeth again for good measure and hopped into the shower, hoping the water would wake her up and wash away the hangover. And no she did not give a damn about the fact that that was scientifically impossible.

She wrapped her hair up in a towel and dried herself off, tossing her dirty clothes into the hamper and hobbling over to her bedroom to change into sweatpants and a tank. Once that was taken care of she let her hair loose to air dry; she definitely could not be bothered to operate a blow dryer right now. Even when she wasn't hungover she didn't have time for that.

She shut the door behind her and made her way to the kitchen which had some ungodly delicious scent coming from it and she walked towards it like she was in a trance.

"Oh my god food." she remarked as soon as she saw Bellamy standing in sweats of his own, which if her head didn't feel like it was about to explode, she'd probably spend more time noticing were riding dangerously low on his hips.

"Well well, look who finally decided to get up."

Clarke groaned when she finally looked at the clock and saw it was already 11.

"Too much talking not enough coffee, or drugs." He smirked and turned away from the stove to grab her a steaming cup of fresh coffee along with a bottle of Advil.

"You are a saint."

He laughed and shook his head in amusement. She drank the coffee like it was water and let out a sigh of relief and took two Advil which she prayed kicked in sooner than later.

A moment or two later he reappeared sitting across from her with a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. Clarke looked at it like she was starved and started scarfing it down. Bellamy let her eat in silence as he thumbed through the pages of a book he was currently reading, the title of which she couldn't make out from the angle they were sitting.

She looked up from her plate from time to time and watched him as he read, the way his eyes scanned the page, completely absorbed, and the almost imperceptible upturn of his lip when he read something that amused him. She also noticed the way his unkept curls seemed to be getting in the way, leading him to run a rand through them in a vain attempt to brush them from out of his eyes.

She smiled softly to herself as she watched him get frustrated by it.

"What?"

Bellamy's eyes had left the page and were looking at her questioningly. _Nice Clarke, way to look like a creep._

"Your hair's getting long" she observed simply, hoping nothing out of the ordinary could be found in her voice all the while thinking about how it'd feel to have her fingers being the ones running through the curls.

He frowned and pulled a strand in front of his eyes self consciously.

"I like it," she said before she could stop herself.

He let the curl drop and looked at her with an expression she couldn't name and she thanked God her cheeks were already flushed from drinking an entire mug of coffee in 30 seconds. She bit the inside of her cheek waiting for him to respond, but his only response was a mocking smirk.

She rolled her eyes, "Oh don't let it get to your head."

"Too late Princess. You can consider my ego fed."

She got up to wash her plate and mug in the sink, happy for a distraction from his face. When she was done she poured herself a glass of water and leaned against the counter, only to realize that Bellamy was still looking at her.

"So I need to talk to you about something."

Clarke peered at him curiously, his hands were wound together in his lap and he looked like he was trying to wring something invisible between them. Clearly whatever this was, he was nervous about it.

"Okay?" She said cautiously.

He breathed in and started, "Next week is Thanksgiving and O wants to know, well, I want to know if you wanted to spend it with us."

She paused and for a moment found nothing to say. Clearly concerned at her lack of reaction Bellamy started backtracking, "I know you'd probably rather be doing something else and it might be crossing a line, but it's not going to be just us, frankly speaking it probably won't even feel like Thanksgiving. O's making such a spectacle out of it. She's closing down the Ark for the day and a bunch of people are going to be there - us, Lincoln, his side of the family, Miller and the gang. We figured you weren't doing anything, God this is coming out wrong — "

She watched him stumble over his words before looking down at the ground and smiling softly.

She knew this would happen eventually, she'd hidden her family drama from her best friend for as long as she could, but Clarke wasn't an idiot. She knew that normal people didn't go through an almost 8 year friendship without talking about their parents. Not that Octavia was particularly keen on talking about her family life either, but still. It was easier to leave things ambiguous at least it had been in the past.

She remembered the awkward moments in college, everyone sitting around talking about Thanksgiving plans - complaining about train fares and ticket prices. Cracking jokes about drunken uncles and intrusive parents who wouldn't leave them alone. But behind the charade of dreading it, Clarke knew that those people had somewhere to come home to, and that was something she no longer had.

Even Octavia, whose father was god knows where and mother had passed away when she was 15, had Bellamy. He'd drive in from wherever he was and pick her up and the two would spend the day together because after all they were family.

Octavia had asked Clarke to join them once, but it'd been awkward. They weren't close yet and besides Clarke had already found a way onto the older Blake's bad side, and she didn't think a day of the two of them butting heads was something Octavia wanted as a Thanksgiving memory.

So back in college Clarke would make up excuses. She'd either call up Wells, back when he hadn't moved across the country, and the two would grab a coffee, or at least a lunch. But Wells of course had family and his own problems to go home to, and since those days the two of them rarely spoke - if they spoke at all. Distance does that to people, she thought, sometimes it leaves you with nothing to say.

And so she started just spending the day to herself, or pretending to go back home, but really booking a motel room for the weekend. She'd spend the weekend in San Fran studying, or exploring the art scene, taking some time to indulge in herself. She knew it was pathetic and a lie, but it was easier than the truth and sometimes Clarke didn't even really mind it. Her routine had changed though. Last year had been the only Thanksgiving she'd almost looked forward to and she'd spent it with Finn, although in hindsight she still wasn't sure how he managed to spend a whole day with her instead of his fiancé. Must take a fuckboy to know one, she reminisced bitterly.

But something about this felt different, the way the question had seem so fragile coming from Bellamy's lips, the way he seemed so self conscious of the words. It stirred something inside her, something she didn't quite understand yet. It made her feel... wanted.

She was so lost in her train of thought that she didn't realize Bellamy had sat up from the table and walked up towards where she was leaning against the counter.

"Clarke?" his voice was laced with concern.

She looked back up and saw the line between his brows and the way his eyes seemed to be searching hers. She didn't know what pushed her to move, or what made her think it was ok, but something told her that maybe this was what she needed.

She stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and leaned up to wrap her arms around his neck. For a moment he stood there unmoving, but after a beat, wrapped his arms around her waist and breathed out a sigh of relief. She smiled into his neck before whispering, "Thank you," and finally pulling away, but not before leaving a soft peck on his cheek. It was intimate and she had every reason to feel embarrassed, but someone it felt right.

When she looked back at him his expression was unreadable, until it morphed into some semblance of a shy grin.

"So I take it that's a yes."

She laughed trying to ignore the lump that'd formed in her throat and the stupid tears she was not about to let fall, "As long as I don't have to cook anything I'm in."

"I think that's a given… for everyone's sake," he gibed.

Clarke sighed, "I'll have you know I've stopped taking offence to that."

"Good."

She watched him quit the kitchen and head to pick up his book and move to lounge on the coach. So this is where they were at, Clarke couldn't lie to herself anymore. For the first time in God knows how long she'd been dreading spending the holiday alone, not when she was finally starting to feel like she had something to look forward to. Someone to look forward to being with.

She turned back and took a long sip of water, trying and failing to calm whatever was bubbling inside her and to erase the stupid grin from her face. She turned her head around just enough so she could make Bellamy out in her periphery. From here she could see a faint smile still plastered across his face, and she had a feeling it was nothing to do with what he was reading.

* * *

**1 week later**

_Why the hell do you own so many leggings?_

Bellamy sent the text after rifling through the drawer Clarke had instructed him to look through and pick out a pair of black leggings. Problem was the woman must have had at least 20 of them and they all looked the damn same.

_Leggings are versatile, leggings are comfortable, leggings are life. _

He rolled his eyes,

_You have a problem. Several in fact. _

He didn't want to think about the level of domestication the two of them were currently experiencing. Clarke had called him from work a half hour ago telling him she wasn't going to be able to make it back in time to change into an outfit. She'd gotten to scrub in on some last minute surgery and asked (more like told) Bellamy that she needed him to bring her an outfit so she could change at work and they could take a taxi straight to the Ark.

After arguing that he wasn't her butler she whined until he'd caved in. And now here he was. Staring at leggings. Hating his life.

_Bellamy this isn't rocket science, I don't care which pair you pick. Pick a black one along with the top and shoes I'd already laid out before I left._ _I have faith in your abilities to not fuck this up_.

He smirked, _Maybe I'll fuck it up just to spite you._

_-_- funny_. _Ok I'm scrubbing in soon, I'll see you in five. OH AND DON'T FORGET THE MAKEUP BAG_.

He sighed and picked out a pair he saw that had a flash of leather going down the sides and threw them into a duffel bag along with the shirt and blazer and shoes Clarke had set out. Oh and the makeup bag. Heaven forbid he forget the damn makeup bag.

After milling around for 5 hours and Octavia calling to make sure he didn't forget what time the damn charade started, Bellamy threw on a nice pair of jeans along with a pale blue shirt and grey sweater over top. He grabbed his wallet, shoving it into his back pocket and threw in a copy of _Claudius the God _into the duffel bag, not knowing how long he'd have to wait for Clarke. Might as well keep himself entertained.

As soon as he left the apartment and locked it, he heard the door across the hall open. Alana stepped out, clearly she was off to a Thanksgiving festivity of her own wearing a dress, heels, and pearls, toeing Charlotte who looked like a miniature version of her mother behind.

"Oh Bellamy! Don't you look nice."

He gave her a tight lipped smile, "I could say the same about you, _but_ I think Charlotte here outshines us all."

The little girl's face broke out into a smile and from the time he'd spent with her Bellamy could tell the kid wanted nothing more than to tear the dress off and thrown on a pair of shorts.

Alana locked her door and walked beside him down the stairs, "And where's your lovely girlfriend?"

"Oh Clarke's at the hospital," he started before catching himself and practically choking on his words, "she's uh also not my girlfriend for the record, we're just friends."

Alana smiled at him knowingly, "Ah, I see."

"So where are the two of you headed?" He hoped his desperation to change the subject wasn't anywhere to be found in his voice.

Charlotte piped up, "Grandpa's! For turkey!"

Bellamy snorted, well the kid certainly had her priorities straight.

Alana's smile morphed into a strained line, "That's right Charlie, but first mommy has to go to the hospital remember?"

Charlotte's face broke into confusion, "Hospital?"

Bellamy stayed silent, having been filled in by Clarke on their unfortunate situation, although he couldn't say he agreed with keeping the kid in the dark. Still he knew his place, and this sure as hell wasn't it.

"Mommy just has to pick up something baby, we'll get to the grandpa's soon."

Charlotte opened her mouth again, clearly frustrated, and Bellamy thought of a way to diffuse some of the tension as they reached the ground floor and he held the door open for them.

"You know what, I'm heading that way too, what do you say to me joining you guys. You and I can hang out while your mom deals with the boring adult stuff how about that?"

Alana breathed a sigh of relief and mouthed a silent _thank you_ while her daughter wasn't looking. _It's not for you, _thought Bellamy, but he bit his tongue.

They made it to the hospital which he had no idea how to navigate other than finding the emergency room.

"Oncology is this way," Alana whispered as she led them through a couple of sets of doors and started following the purple arrows on the floor. They reached what look like a common area. There were sliding glass doors that opened up into a what looked like a small park with benches and tables. He could see family members sitting with loved ones, some in wheel chairs, some not, and some obviously more sick than others.

"Ok Charlie, I'll be back in 2 minutes, just stay with Bellamy ok?"

Charlotte, who was taking the environment around her nodded slowly. Bellamy grabbed her hand and led her out through the doors and even though it was cold outside he figured it was a better option than milling around what looked like a nurses station.

They found an empty bench and Bellamy lifted Charlotte onto it, who suddenly had far less to say than she had on the shared cab ride over.

He placed Clarke's duffel bag beside them and watched the kid swing her legs which didn't even reach the ground back and forth.

"So last I heard you had a soccer match this week, you want to tell me about that."

She didn't say anything, but kept looking around at her surroundings with a grim expression on her face.

"I don't like hospitals," she finally whispered after a moment.

Bellamy pat her on the knee, "Me neither kid, me neither." He mind flashed back to tubes, and blood, and a heart monitor going flat. He clenched his jaw before the memories could take over and sucked in a deep breath to calm himself. "You know what though, if you close your eyes, it doesn't even feel like a hospital anymore."

Charlotte looked at him skeptically. He grinned back at her, "What you don't believe me?"

She closed one eye slowly and then the next and after a moment her face relaxed.

"We didn't win the game, Darcy Winters kept letting the balls in because she felt bad for the other team."

Bellamy snorted and let Charlotte go on ranting about her blissfully innocent problems until her mom came back and by the time Alana returned, he was pretty sure the kid had forgotten where they were in the first place. Her mom looked worn out, but she smiled when she saw the two of them, "Thanks Bellamy, come on Charlotte time to go."

Charlotte grabbed her moms hand as she hopped off the bench, but quickly let it go to come back around a give Bellamy a hug.

"It worked," she whispered and with that she skipped back over to her mom leaving him alone.

He reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, scrolling through a few new texts, but none from Clarke. She must have still been in surgery. He considered getting up to leave and head to the waiting room where they'd planned to meet, but he figured this place was probably the closet he was going to get to normal around here.

He grabbed his book and started to read. Bellamy had barely gotten a few pages into Herod Agrippa's antics when a familiar voice was registered by his unattended ear.

"You sure picked a hell of a day to spend quality time with nature Mrs. Griff — I'll have you know I could have been in surgery right now."

Bellamy lifted his head and turned to see non other than John Murphy stopping a woman Bellamy had never seen before, and yet somehow still looked familiar, by a table a few feet away from where he was sitting.

Murphy was noticeably shivering only wearing scrubs and a lab coat, while the woman was wrapped up in a coat and blanket.

"Hush John, you could use some fresh air — you're looking a little pale."

"I'm a white guy who lives in a city where it does nothing but rain, I have literally never been anything but pale."

The woman smiled and closed her eyes, "Well then maybe the air can cleanse that attitude of yours. Besides you said you weren't interested in this surgery anyway."

Murphy shuddered, "They pull a guy's gallbladder out of his mouth, it's unnatural, I leave the freaky shit, sorry stuff, to your daughter."

_Your daughter_, what the fuck?

And when the woman's eyes opened again that's when Bellamy recognized their familiar blue and the general planes of her face. It was like looking at Clarke in 20 years, or at least would have been 20 if the woman wasn't wheelchair bound and had tubes connected to her nose.

Before Bellamy had even registered what he was doing he shoved the book back in the bag and was stalking over to where Murphy only noticed him about a second too late.

"Well fuck me," Bellamy heard him whisper beneath his breath.

Clarke's mother noticed him now and she looked up at him with a confused expression, "John, who is this?"

"Uh this is Blake, the two of us go way back. What you doing here buddy?"

Bellamy did little to hide the murderous expression in his eyes.

"Excuse us, _Mrs Griffin," _Bellamy grit out, "_Murphy_ and I have something we need to discuss."

The woman who was apparently Clarke's mother pursed her lips and looked at them with concern.

"Uh Derek," Murphy called out to a nearby nurse, "Could you take Mrs. Griffin over here back to her room? Thanks man, owe you one!" But neither Bellamy nor Murphy had the chance to hear his response before Bellamy was stalking towards Murphy who had all but turned around and ran out the glass doors and down the hall.

Bellamy followed behind him more closely than he wanted and gripped him by his upper arm.

"You know," Murphy said while struggling, "You really should call me Dr. Murphy in the hospital. Wouldn't want people thinking they can disrespect me you feel?"

They walked into an empty room Bellamy saw in the corner of his eye and he shoved Murphy against the wall after the door closed behind them.

Murphy winced and rubbed his elbow, "Or not. Murphy's good. Whatever works for you, works for me my liege."

Bellamy dropped the bag on the floor and turned to face him, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

His mouth twisted into a sneer, "How much time you got?"

Bellamy resisted the urge to wipe the smirk off the little mole's face, "You know exactly what I'm talking about ferret."

Murphy's eyes sparkled as the insult seemed to bounce right off him, "Ooh ferret, that's a new one. Not even Clarke's up with that one yet, colour me impressed. Don't go throwing that around though, wouldn't want my street cred getting tarnished."

Bellamy stepped closer menacingly and gripped Murphy by the collar of his lab coat, "You like having a functioning wind pipe John?"

Murphy swallowed ad threw his hands out in front of him in defense, "All right, all right GI Joe keep those fists where they are and let me explain."

Bellamy released him, "Yes by all means. Please explain to me why Clarke's mother is in the hospital and she knows nothing about it."

He wasn't entirely sure what it was he'd said that spurred Murphy to lift up a corner of his mouth in an amused and knowing grin.

"Well isn't _this_ interesting."

Bellamy frowned and replied shortly, "What?" He got the feeling that there was a joke he was missing, and that the punchline was him.

Murphy was staring at him like he knew something that Bellamy didn't.

"What makes you so sure that Clarke doesn't know?"

Bellamy knit his brows together, but replied quickly. The answer to him was obvious, "Of course she doesn't. She would have told me! She -" _Oh_.

From the triumphant look on his face, Bellamy could tell that he'd just said exactly what Murphy had wanted him to. The answer to Bellamy had been obvious, and maybe that was the problem.

"You and Clarke sure have gotten close haven't you." Bellamy didn't like what his tone implied.

"Shut up Murphy."

He leered, "Touchy subject is it?"

Bellamy practically growled, "I said. Shut. Up." Clearly this wasn't going anywhere and Bellamy had wasted more than enough time trying to have a civil conversation him. He should have known better, and right now, all he could think about was finding Clarke. He made his way to the door, when Murphy stopped him.

"Stop. Where are you going?"

He whipped around, "Where the hell do you think? I'm going to find Clarke."

Murphy's voice gave him pause and the current source of all of Bellamy's problems gave a sigh, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Bellamy closed the door again and crossed his arms in front of him, "And why the hell not?"

Murphy rolled his eyes like he was the one fed up with Bellamy, "Did you ever stop to think that maybe there's a reason why Clarke doesn't know?"

"You mean other than you being an awful human being?"

He straightened his collar with an air of superiority, "I prefer morally ambiguous thank you very much."

"Fine. Enlighten me then, what possible reason could there be for you keeping this from Clarke."

Murphy sighed and the look on his face morphed into one of defeat, "I promised Abby, her mom who you frankly speaking did not make the best impression in front of, and Kane that I wouldn't say anything all right? Abby doesn't want Clarke to know, she made us promise to keep this from her."

Bellamy shook his head. That he hadn't been expecting. "That doesn't make any sense, what kind of mother would keep something like this from her daughter? Clarke has a right to know."

Murphy smiled sadly, "Don't you think I agree? But this isn't our call Bellamy, and there's more to the story that you or I know."

He knit his brows in confusion, trying to process everything he was hearing. Murphy continued, "Think about it, has Clarke ever talked about her mother to you? Ever even mentioned good ol Mrs. Dr. Griffin back in Orange County in all the time you've known her?"

No she hadn't. But Bellamy didn't talk about his parents either, it wasn't the most absurd thing in the world.

"Face it Blake. This isn't a typical hallmark Mother Daughter relationship - things aren't that simple."

Bellamy clenched his hand and felt his muscles tense. "And you know all this how? She told you all this did she?"

Murphy's expression shifted, and Bellamy could see that his wild guess had been right.

"Don't take it personally Bellamy. It's easier to spill your shit onto people that are just as fucked up as you. Maybe more. That's the only way you can guarantee not to get judged."

Bellamy saw red. He knew that Murphy wasn't the one he should be mad at, hell, even Clarke wasn't the one he was really angry at. He was mad at himself for even being bothered by this. For being jealous.

"Of course I wouldn't judge her," he grit out.

"Well Clarke doesn't know that, does she? You spent years sporting pre conceived notions about her man, girl's got a right to be guarded. Besides, people have a right to hold onto their own baggage."

He sighed, hating the fact that he was right. "Fine. I believe you. But what the hell am I supposed to do about this now?"

Murphy frowned, "Do? You're not going to _do_ or say anything."

Bellamy ran a hand across his face in frustration, "So what? I'm supposed to just lie to her then. I can't do that."

"Don't think of it as lying exactly."

"Lying by omission is still a lie Murphy, although I wouldn't expect that to make a difference to you."

Murphy twirled his fingers around in the air, "I prefer to look at it as simply withholding information. Besides, you shouldn't be a stranger to that."

Bellamy's eyes narrowed, "And what _exactly _is that supposed to mean?"

Murphy looked at him curiously. "Do you care about Clarke, Bellamy?"

Bellamy stilled and his voice softened. He replied without hesitation, "Of course I do."

Murphy didn't miss a beat, "Do you have feelings for her?"

If it weren't for the fact that his chest was pounding Bellamy would have sworn he'd stopped breathing.

"What? No of course not, that's… that's ridiculous."

Murphy looked satisfied, "There you go, see. You're already a natural at lying."

And that was just about the last straw. Bellamy grabbed the bag, flung open the door and stormed out, Murphy running after him. He put a hand on him which Bellamy shook off violently.

"I'm serious Blake. You might not like me."

Bellamy scoffed, "That's the understatement of the century."

"Find. Go ahead and hate me, but that doesn't change the fact that you and I both care about Clarke, and something tells me you'd do anything to protect her. Face it Bellamy, we're the same."

There was a bitterness in his voice and Bellamy's insides curled, "You and I are _nothing _alike. And I'll tell her whatever the hell I want." But Bellamy knew he wasn't fooling anyone and he heard the faults in his own voice.

He passed the Oncology Wing and headed towards the lobby with Murphy following him the whole way. Before he made the final turn Murphy blocked his path.

"Get out of my way Murphy."

The boy's expression had gone from unpleasant and punchable to sad. With an almost pleading voice he said, "Don't do anything you'll regret Bellamy. For your own sake, and hers."

Bellamy shoved him out of the way and made his way around the corner to where Clarke was standing waiting for him.

"Where have you been?" she said as she strode up to them. Annoyance laced her words but she was smiling all the same. "I thought we were meeting 10 minutes ago, O's going to kill us if we're late and I haven't even changed yet. Murphy what are you doing here?"

Bellamy shot Murphy a glare, "We ran into each other in the oncology wing."

Clarke frowned, "Oncology wing? Why were you in the oncology wing?"

Murphy stilled and caught his breath and Bellamy thought there was no way Clarke could be oblivious to the tension between them. Before Murphy fainted from lack of oxygen, Bellamy answered. He knew he would regret this at some point, but Murphy's words echoed in his mind. _You'd do anything to protect her_. A part of him hated to admit it, but it was true. Just as a part of him refused to entertain the possibility that an earlier observation of his could be true too.

But that's the thing with the truth Bellamy thought, it always comes out. But maybe he could stall it, just for a little bit. At least for today. Today he could give her something good.

"Alana," Bellamy said to which Clarke nodded in understanding and Murphy let out a melodramatic breath. "I was walking with her and Charlotte, they were here visiting their grandmother. Murphy ran into me there."

Clarke frowned again, "I didn't know you were on oncology today Murphy? I thought you went home? What gives?"

He went up to her and patted her on the head which Clarke tried to dodge unsuccessfully and shoved him off, "I go where the people need me Griffin. It's what I do."

She rolled her eyes and laughed, but clearly didn't brush off the comment, more likely than not she just decided to store it for later. Bellamy looked at the two of them standing there together like pals and he suddenly felt the need for a drink. Or five.

"In fact," Murphy continued, "Bellamy here was so concerned that I was still working on Thanksgiving that he invited me to your little shindig."

Clarke paused and looked at Bellamy in surprise, "He did?"

Bellamy tightened his jaw and had to exercise all his restraint not to snarl, "The more the merrier."

"Okay then… Do you have my stuff?"

Bellamy handed the duffle bag to her, actively ignoring Murphy's knowing look at the back of his head.

"You're a life saver. Ok well Murphy if you want to come then get changed, you're not showing up like that. And why are you so sweaty? You know what never mind, I don't want to know. I'll be back soon."

Clarke walked off and Bellamy did his best not to watch her leave. He whipped his head back to glare at Murphy who still had that stupid grin on his face. It's like it was impossible for him not to look punchable.

"That was cute really, very domestic."

Bellamy groaned, "Do you ever shut up?"

"History would say no. Anyways I better be off, you heard what Griffin said, I've got to make myself look presentable."

Bellamy paused and his eyes flared, "You've got to be kidding me. You're not seriously coming."

Murphy leaned back and laced his fingers, "Oh, but I think I am. Call it insurance Bellamy, someone needs to make sure that Abby's secret stays safe. And it just so happens that that person is me."

Bellamy's stomach was twisting internally, and he wished he could pretend this entire day had never happened. It was only 2 pm for fucks sake, how could things have already turned so sour. He knew what he was feeling was guilt, and he didn't know how to reconcile that. How do you justify keeping something like this a secret, even if it is to protect someone you..

"Fine whatever," he finished, "Just know that we're not done here."

"Oh goody, can't wait to see what happens next," and before Bellamy could reply Murphy was sauntering away and Bellamy's stress levels were rising by the minute.

He walked outside and breathed in the fresh air, it'd started misting slightly, and he embraced the cold as he ran a hand through his hair.

He called a taxi and was standing by the sign waiting for it when he almost didn't hear Clarke come up beside him. Her beige trench coat was open to reveal the long green button down she'd belted and paired with a deep purple cardigan she must have had at work.

She looked up at him, "Nice job with the leggings by the way, although I shouldn't be surprised that you picked the ones with leather. Making my life difficult, as always."

He did his best to sound at ease and not betray anything that was currently weighing down on him, "You look great, Clarke. Really."

She smiled softly, "Well I appreciate the compliment. Speaking of compliments, look at you inviting along Murphy to Thanksgiving. That was awfully _nice _and _polite _of you."

At that moment their taxi pulled up and Bellamy opened the door for her and crawled in the opposite side.

"Yeah, you can call me freaking Mother Theresa."

Clarke laughed and shut her door, "I ran into him in the locker room, he's going to just meet us there."

"What a shame, I was so looking forward to getting to spend some quality time with him."

Clarke looked at him curiously, "Hey don't get snappy you're the one that invited him."

Bellamy clenched his jaw and looked out the window without saying anything. "Something tells me I'm going to regret it."

Clarke smirked, "Yes well you didn't have me to warn you," and she quickly started going on about the surgery she'd just scrubbed in on, and Bellamy did his best to listen, but all the while his mind was somewhere else.

Abby Griffin was here in Seattle and had been for god knows how long. She was here and she was sick, and from the looks of it probably wasn't going to be getting better anytime soon. The only family Clarke had left was in trouble and she didn't even know it. Bellamy didn't know what happened between the two Griffin women, and frankly he didn't think it was his place to, but that didn't change the fact that family was family.

He looked over at Clarke who looked so at ease and happy as she rambled about gallbladders that Bellamy couldn't help but feel a bittersweet tug at his chest. Because with his luck the truth always managed to find a way to the surface, and he had the sinking feeling that no matter what path he chose - whether or not he told her now or let her find out on her own, she would wind up hurt. And part of that would be his fault.

Looking at Clarke Griffin he knew that even if he didn't deserve it, with her he'd managed to find something he needed, something good. He wanted her in his life, and he wanted to be in hers, and maybe even something more. But he should have known that like all good things, this could only ever be temporary. Like all good things in his life, somehow he'd find a way to fuck it up.

He suppressed a groan and rubbed his eyes, counting down the moments until they reach the Ark.

_Happy Thanksgiving_ indeed.

* * *

**A/N : **So as you can prooobably guess things are about to get a bit more complicated for Bellamy as they always do. This was an uncharacteristically productive writing week for me, and hopefully I'll be able to keep up with that! Sorry this chapter was low on the Bellarke, but hey, at least we have the actual hug to look forward to. *squeals*


	19. Chapter 19 - True North

**A/N : **So I thought I'd put a bit of a foreshadowing note that the song playing in the final scene of this chapter (most of the lyrics are included) is "**West**" by **Sleeping At Last,** in case anyone wants to give it a listen and set the tone for the scene :) (Also I'm sure everyone knows this already, but Sleeping At Last is fantastic - you can practically pick anyone of their songs at random and be met with something beautiful, but I digress - enjoy the chapter!) *Also I apologize in advance for it's length.

* * *

True North

"You okay?," she asked him when they pulled up to the Ark. Clarke had been watching Bellamy from the corner of her eye on the cab ride over and she could tell that something was weighing on him, something that hadn't been there the night before when they'd lounged on the couch innocently arguing over Star Wars. Or not so innocently on his part… the boy had an obsession. But if you asked her, Clarke thought space was overrated.

He refused to look at her, simply nodded curtly, "Fine."

He handed the driver the fare and got out of the cab without another word. Clarke sighed before following suit. "Bellamy wait!" He was practically at the door before she could grab a hold of his arm and spin him around. He stared down at her hand and she removed it instantly, "If there's something bothering you, _tell me_."

Again he refused to meet her eyes. She noticed the familiar tick of his jaw before he closed his eyes and took a weary breath. When he opened them again Clarke never would have guessed anything was troubling him, that is if she hadn't known him better. But she knew he was probably just burying whatever it was inside.

"I just hate the holidays Princess, that's all."

She frowned until she caught a flash of what looked like a plea in his eye. _Fine_, if that's the way he wanted to play it, she'd let this go. For now.

"Yes well you're not the only one sharing that sentiment so we might as well go in there and be bitter together."

He smirked half heartedly, "Mutual disdain, I like it."

She rolled her eyes and hooked her arm through his, "Come on Grinch, try not to make any children cry while we're at it." She dragged him through the door while he refuted her, "You can't use that it's not even Christmas," but his argument was cut off the moment they stepped into the Ark. The place was so abuzz with commotion you'd think it was any other working day.

"Good God," Clarke heard Bellamy mutter beside her and she couldn't help but snort. He certainly hadn't been kidding with his earlier assessment of what today would be like. She should have known Octavia was incapable of organizing anything resembling a small low key gathering. The place was packed to the brim, some faces familiar to Clarke and the rest she was just left to assume were Lincoln's apparently huge family.

"Bellamy! Clarke!" she made out her best friend's voice over the commotion and they headed over to where O was standing, drink in hand, with a group.

"So you two are late," she chastised. Clarke's "_Blame him_" came out at the same time as Bellamy's "_Blame her,"_ causing the two of them to turn to the other and glare.

"Or we could blame Murphy," a familiar voice came up from behind her making her jump and clutch her chest, "I've been told everyone gets a kick out of doing that."

Octavia shot Clarke a look as Bellamy visibly tensed. "Stalker or guest?" she asked.

"Does it have to be one or the other?" Murphy asked while sipping on a glass of wine he'd managed to snag from God knows where. Or, more fittingly, who.

"Your brother here decided to invite a stray," Clarke said while sneaking a glance at Bellamy who, for not the first time that day, inexplicably looked like he wanted to murder her co worker. She said inexplicably because from the moment she saw the two of them together at the hospital, something had felt off, and for the life of her she could not figure out what. She dealt with the general displeasures that came from spending time in John Murphy's company day in and day out so she knew how many buttons he could push. The question remained however as to what he'd done to send the older Blake sibling day dreaming about homicide.

"Oh did he now?" Octavia said with an amused grin.

Bellamy shook his head like he could will himself out of the conversation. "I'm going to go find Lincoln."

Octavia looked at Clarke shiftily, "Clarke you better follow him, Lincoln wanted to introduce you to some people anyways."

She narrowed her eyes at her friend, but decided to go along with it anyways. What did strike her though was the way Octavia grabbed Murphy by the tail of his shirt to hinder his attempt to leave.

"Not you… I want to talk to you."

Though her head was turned by the time he said it Clarke had no trouble picturing his tell tale leer as he replied, "Consider me more than happy to oblige."

She was still frowning when she was greeted by a side hug from Lincoln, "I'm glad Bell convinced you to come Clarke." She smiled and returned his embrace, "Yeah me too, so who exactly is us."

"Ah", Lincoln said as he looked around the Ark, "We _may_ have taken over the place, but your sister said to invite everyone so…"

"Not ashamed of your family are you Lincoln?" At that moment Clarke noticed the commanding woman who had come up to stand next to Lincoln. Her words may have been stern, but her face donned a soft affectionate smile as she held him under her gaze. Lincoln laughed, "Easy Indra, you know I wouldn't make it out of here alive if I said I was."

They clasped each other's forearms tightly before the woman wrapped Lincoln up into a tight embrace. Clarke raised a brow in Bellamy's direction, but he just shrugged.

"Enough of that, now tell me who are these friends of yours?"

"Indra this is Bellamy Blake, Octavia's older brother and his roommate Clarke — Octavia's best friend. Guys this is my Aunt Indra, she raised me after my parents died."

Indra smiled at the two of them, but Clarke couldn't shake the feeling like they were somehow being tested. Indra turned towards Bellamy first, "You have an impressive sister Mister Blake, you must be proud."

Clarke studied his features intently as he turned to glance at Octavia who was still talking to Murphy and it almost looked like she was handing him something. His face broke into an easy smile, "It'd be hard not to be."

"Lincoln tells me you played a big role in raising your sister."

Bellamy nodded, but Clarke could tell her looked somewhat uncomfortable, "Well she is my sister. It was my responsibility. Although I think she's turned out just fine on her own. She had good influences in her life."

His gazed was fixed on Clarke now and she had to fight to stifle a blush.

"Trust me," Clarke started, "if there's anything O picked up from me it got there by diffusion not from any effort on my part."

Indra's mouth curved into an amused grin as Octavia joined the group, "Are we talking about me?"

Bellamy rolled his eyes, "How did you guess?"

"I have my ways," she fired back at him before giving Lincoln a soft peck on the cheek. "Lincoln where's Roan? I thought you were going to introduce him to Clarke." Octavia threw a suggestive grin her way and wiggled her brows not so subtly before turning back towards Lincoln. A look flashed between the two of them and Lincoln's mouth broke into a grin.

"Roan's around, come on Clarke."

Clarke gave Octavia a "_wtf_" kind of look, but took Lincoln's outstretched arm and followed him to God knows where. As she left she thought she could see Bellamy scowl, but figured it was probably her imagination. Probably.

* * *

"So why'd you invite the goblin?" Octavia asked after they'd finished their conversation with Indra. The woman was intimidating, even he could admit that. A part of him was entertained with he thought that some day she may just end up being Octavia's mother in law. Not that he wanted his sister to get married any time soon, but still, that was bound to be fun to watch.

"Why don't you ask him?" he replied, "You two certainly seemed chummy earlier."

"We had other things to discuss, anyways, how are _you_?"

Bellamy looked at his sister suspiciously, "Fine. Same as I was last week. What's gotten into you?" His eyes left hers to search the room. His gaze landed on Clarke, Lincoln, and a beast of a man who Bellamy could only assume was Roan. _Seriously_. _T__hat guy?_ The guy who looked like he was the leader of a biker gang, _that _was the guy who his sister was trying to set Clarke up with. Bellamy narrowed his eyes and shook his head with disgust.

"Oh nothing nothing, I was just wondering if there's any new reason why you keep staring at Clarke from across the room, but it's nice to hear that it's just the same old unrequited pining."

Bellamy froze and cursed himself internally at the unwelcome blush he felt creeping onto his cheeks. His dilating blood vessels could go to hell.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," the words gave out almost like a snarl.

"Hey guys what are we talking about?" Miller asked as he gave Octavia an one armed hug. Today he'd brought his boyfriend Bryan along who was off talking to Harper and Monroe.

"Oh nothing, just the fact that Bellamy keeps staring at Clarke."

Miller smirked, "Well that's nothing new."

Bellamy leaned over to smack his friend who'd unfortunately gotten annoyingly good at dodging him.

"You two suck you know that."

"Well, well, well, Blake," Bellamy saw red when a voice he'd spent far too much time with within the past 24 hours joined the group, "Looks like someone isn't as good of a liar as I thought."

"Do you come with an off switch?"

"Not sure, why don't you check? You can call 1-800-kiss-my-ass if you need instructions."

Bellamy groaned as Octavia snorted and Miller roared, "Oh my god who is this guy? I love you already."

"The name's John Murphy — certifiable piece of human waste, pleasure to meet you."

Octavia leaned in and whispered into Bellamy's ear, "Well at least he's self aware."

Miller laughed and shook the guy's hand, "_You_, I like."

"And I no longer trust your judgement," Octavia joked.

Miller hooked Murphy round the arm to introduce him to the gang and Bellamy watched them leave dubiously. "So," Octavia started.

"O just drop it please." He didn't want to deal with this right now. Not when the only thing he'd had on his mind since leaving the hospital was how he was going to tell Clarke. _If _he was going to tell Clarke, and the fact that no matter what he did, whatever the two of them had was probably going to be ruined.

"Looks like her and Roan are getting cozy."

Bellamy turned his head around to follow Octavia's gaze only to find that Clarke and Roan were standing a good distance apart. Clarke seemed oblivious to the way the stranger was looking at her and Bellamy couldn't help but smirk at that. Good. She could do better.

When he looked back to face Octavia his sister was frowning, "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Bellamy sighed, "I'm not doing anything Octavia, let it go."

"You've just been so happy lately and don't insult my intelligence by trying to tell me that a part of that isn't because of Clarke."

"So what if it is?" he asked defensively. "It's not my fault she's tolerable once you get to know her."

Octavia gave him a knowing look and Bellamy ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

"Look O I love you, but stay out of this one alright. Things with Clarke are good ok? Complicated, but good. I don't want to mess up whatever we've got going on."

His sister crossed her arms and raised her brow, "And that is?"

Bellamy sighed as the weight of the loaded question landed on him. He didn't know the answer, not the full extent of it anyways. He knew the way he'd been feeling lately and he'd been doing his damnedest to ignore it. Clearly his efforts had been unsuccessful.

"I don't know."

"You want to hear my opinion?"

He flashed her a look, "No, not particularly."

O narrowed her eyes, "Rude. Moving on, if you ask _me_ —,"

"I didn't," he made sure to point out.

"You're worse than Clarke you know that?" He smirked and she continued, "If you ask me, I think she'd be good for you."

Bellamy crossed his arms, "Is that so?"

Octavia nodded with an air of confidence, "And I'm willing to bet I'm not the only one who thinks so."

"Oh really, and who else might that be?" His sister fixed him with an _are you serious_ kind of glare.

"Right Lincoln, of course, I should have known. So is _that," _he gestured to where Clarke and Roan were now sitting at one of the two long temporary dinner tables, "all your idea then? Using some stranger to make me jealous, really O? What are we, 12?"

"Call it a collaborative effort, and it's working isn't it?"

Bellamy swore under his breath and his sister laughed, "Oh big brother you're in deep aren't you?"

He rolled his eyes and looked away, his gaze unconsciously drawn to the subject of this ridiculous argument once again. Bellamy sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Hair he'd been considering getting cut, at least that was until a certain someone had told him she'd liked it. God he was pathetic. He was in deeper than he knew, and he was equally as fucked.

"Fine I'll drop it, but can I say one more thing?"

"I highly doubt I have the ability to stop you from sharing your unsolicited opinion."

Octavia mimicked his earlier eye roll, "You know you make these things more difficult for yourself. Anyways, what I was _going_ to say is that I think you'd be good for her too."

Bellamy looked down at the ground and scoffed, "I doubt that." Yes he doubted it, but at the same time he recognized something else within him. The part of him that wanted to believe that it could be true.

His sister came up beside him and nudged him comfortingly, "Don't."

* * *

A few hours later dinner was all but wrapped up and Clarke was convinced she'd gained more pounds than she could count on both hands. Lincoln and his family had taken over the Ark's kitchen and she was pretty sure she'd be dreaming about that turkey for nights to come.

"So tell me Clarke," her new friend started as he leaned his elbow on the table. Clarke had actually been fascinated by Roan when Lincoln had introduced the two of them. It turned out the guy ran his own gym up in Tacoma, but Clarke wasn't convinced he wasn't some kind of part time assassin. She wasn't about to pretend like that might not come in handy some day. "Why has Octavia's brother been looking at me like he wants to wring my neck all night?"

Clarke frowned. She actually hadn't noticed anything particularly odd about Bellamy's behaviour towards Roan, but maybe that was just because she was used to the waves of his surly behaviour. Luckily for her she hadn't been the recipient of them for some time now.

Bellamy was sitting across from them along with Harper and Monroe. Nearby were Miller and Bryan who were just about the cutest couple Clarke had ever seen, not that she'd tell Octavia that. The evening had gone better than she'd expected actually. She'd spent most of it bantering with Bellamy, who despite his best efforts at hating the holiday looked like he was actually having a good time as the gang had all shared some of their more unfortunate Thanksgiving stories.

"_And yet you pick on me for being a terrible cook?" She'd had the pleasure of mocking him when she'd found out about the time the Blake's Thanksgiving had been interrupted by a visit from the Fire Department. _

"_Cooking had nothing to do with it! It wasn't my fault the damn timer broke."_

"_Ah yes, the timer "broke" did it?" She'd almost choked on stuffing when he graced them all with his trademark scowl_.

Things had gone great actually and she was surprised at how relaxed she felt - even with their surprise guest. On Clarke's other side sat Murphy who she hadn't had much trouble blissfully ignoring for the majority of the dinner. In fact he'd seemed rather preoccupied with one of Lincoln's gorgeous cousins' sitting on his right. But at that comment Murphy and Bellamy both quirked up to attention.

Murphy snorted, "And here I was thinking that was reserved just for me. Where did it go wrong Blake, I thought we had something special?"

Clarke laughed, "Don't take it personally Roan, Bellamy has questionable interpersonal skills."

Miller raised his glass, "Now isn't that the truth."

Bellamy glared at his friend, "Oh shut up Miller." But she could tell it was all in jest. "What it's true!" Miller defended himself, "Back in college I thought you were going to kill me during the first two months we were shacked up together."

"Yes well you were a shit roommate so whose fault is that?"

Miller laughed, "And yet look at us now Blake, best friends until the end. See Clarke," she had to lean forward to look at him down the table, "That's what you've got to look forward to."

She smirked and look at Bellamy across the table, "Best friends eh?"

He took a drink of the beer next to him and avoided her gaze, "Something like that."

Clarke frowned, but let the comment slide — the conversation had already turned to copious gushing about the food. But once the plates were cleared and everyone began lazily milling about Clarke broke away from the group to grab her purse. She knew what she'd find in there and she didn't want to be around people who were having a good time when she did. Clarke had never felt comfortable being the downer. She slipped outside into the cool Seattle night when no one was watching.

Clarke walked to the edge of the street and sat herself down onto the side walk. Slowly and reluctantly she reached into her bag to retrieve her phone and with one click the screen lit up with the two text messages she knew she'd find. Two she'd been both anticipating and dreading all day. If she was being honest her earlier surgery had been a welcome distraction.

The first was from Wells. Even though the two of them weren't close anymore, a truth which pained her today of all days more than she'd like to admit, they'd made a habit of checking in with each other once in a while. He was married now to some girl he'd met back in Newport. Clarke had been writing her final exams during the wedding.

The message was short, simple, and sweet, attached with a photo of him and his smiling wife.

_Long time no see Griffin, or should I say Dr. Griffin now? Sorry that was lame. I miss you by the way — Gemma's getting tired of me telling the same old stories every year, especially about someone she's never met. She'd like to by the way, in case you were wondering. There's always a spot at our table for you Clarke, you know that. Anyways, the invitation stands… maybe next year? Take care of yourself Clarke. Miss you. Wells._

She smiled at his goofy smile in the photo, even though she was almost sure it was the same one he'd sent last year. She wrote back a quick reply, knowing it was probably going to be the last time they talked for a while and made sure to throw in a photo of the food she'd stuffed herself with earlier.

When she was done she inhaled deeply before reading the next notification. She got a variation of the same message every few months. Every Christmas, every birthday.

_Happy Thanksgiving Clarke. I miss you. I love you. Mom._

She frowned when she scrolled up in the conversation and noticed that with this particular text her estranged mother hadn't thrown in her usual "come home". In the earlier years her mother had called, and sometimes Clarke would answer. The conversation would have undoubtedly ended in a screaming match and hours after the phones had been hung up, any anger she'd felt would turn to guilt. And so she'd stopped answering and Abby Griffin had stopped calling, and that was for the best. At least that's what Clarke told herself.

She sighed shakily as she swiped against the angry tears that came around every time she thought about her mother. She braced herself against the familiar ache that pulsed within her chest. Most days she could numb it, but the happiness she'd felt back inside the Ark was just an ugly reminder of the past. She'd been stupid to come today — at least when she was alone she could forget about this stupid holiday, forget about family.

Clarke was so deep in her thoughts that she almost didn't notice when a familiar presence sat down on the concrete next to her. "You doing all right?"

She exhaled heavily and shook her head, "I just hate the holidays Bellamy, that's all." There was a bite to her tone as she mimicked his earlier words and she knew it. But she didn't want to have this conversation. Not now.

Clarke could feel the weight of his gaze on her before he started gently, "You don't have to do that, you know? Pretend like everything's fine when it's not."

She bit her lip and blinked down at the ground, furiously fighting back all the shit that was threatening to float to the surface. "Why shouldn't I?" she snapped more aggressively than she'd meant to. She looked at his stoic face that was still studying her, "You certainly are."

"Well we've all got our baggage don't we." She couldn't help but feel as if he was referencing something she didn't quite understand.

Silence fell between them, uncomfortably so until he broke it. "I never knew my dad, in fact I'm pretty sure he bolted the second my mom told him she was pregnant. Octavia's father wasn't any better." There was a resigned bitterness to his voice and when Clarke didn't say anything he continued.

"My mom worked her ass off for us Clarke, God sometimes I still wonder how she did it. She gave us every single thing that she could, until she couldn't. Until what seemed like a single minuscule lump turned into spending every waking hour at the hospital."

His words cut off and she suspected he had to force himself to go on. She remember his words from just last week. Sharing wasn't easy for him, it wasn't easy for her either. She felt guilty for making him feel like he had to put this out there.

"_Bellamy_ —,"

"After that I was used to it just being me and O, you know? In a way it'd always been like that our whole lives. I was used to it, but this. I don't know how to slip into _this _role. I don't know how to be someone who can just sit there and pretend like I don't remember the days when it was just the three of us."

"Maybe you don't have to pretend," she said. Grateful to be distracted from her own problems. Grateful that maybe someone else was feeling the same. "Bellamy I saw you in there with O, Lincoln, and with everyone. You don't have to hate yourself for being happy. You don't have to feel guilty about being relieved that you're not alone anymore. It's ok to miss your mom, but it's ok to be happy. You deserve to be happy."

He nodded slowly before looking at her, "And what about you?"

She sighed. Yes, what about her? "I used to have that, everything in there," she started tentatively, not yet entirely sure how to find the right words for whatever she was feeling. "We used to do the whole big family gathering thing, the Jaha/Griffin annual Thanksgiving party."

She paused before finding it in herself to continue, "My mom had a penchant for party planning, but on Thanksgiving she toned it down. She sent the cook home along with the rest of the staff and for one day it was just us. We'd spend the day in the kitchen, my mom trying her best to help before my dad finally sent her to the living room to join Well's mom with a glass of wine. Him and Thelonious, Well's dad, would laugh over the grill while Wells and I did our best not to burn anything."

"It was simple, it was easy, just like this. So being in that room, seeing everyone so carefree and happy, I get it. It just makes me think about everything I used to have back before everything changed."

"Before your dad."

Clarke ran a frustrated hand across her forehead before settling it on her knee and gripping the fabric of the leggings he'd chosen.

"I've never told anyone this before," she whispered before looking at him.

"Clarke_,_ you don't have to."

She shook her head, not completely sure whether or not she was trying to convince him or herself. "No, I want to."

She took a deep breath before letting it all out. "My dad and Well's dad essentially ran Alpha Station Developments together. They bought and sold pieces of land all over the States, developing them into residential neighbourhoods, business centres, you name it."

"Alpha Station… they were a Fortune 500 weren't they? Didn't that company get dissolved years ago?"

Clarke nodded gravely, "Thelonius worked primarily on government contracts while my dad was responsible for communications between the environmental sector. He loved sustainability, and the reason ASD was so successful was because of it's commitment to facilitating the protection of conservation areas. That was until my dad found out that mission was all complete bullshit and the government was working with insiders within the company to move into development on lands that should have been protected by law."

"As soon as he found out he told my mom — he couldn't go to the government of course, they were in on it, and so he went to the press."

She was surprised at how easily all this was coming back to her. "It was a media nightmare for the company and they did everything in their power to shut it down. They accused him of insider espionage, accused him of making everything up and took him to court. They made him look like a fool, like a crazy person - and they covered all their tracks with a dead body. They pinned the murder of one of the higher ups involved in the project on my dad."

"That's why your dad was sent to prison wasn't it?"

She nodded curtly, "He lost his job, not that he cared about that anymore, and they sent him away where he couldn't cause any more problems."

"But then what —,"

"What happened to my mom? She testified against him in court. I never found out why, I always suspected that they somehow had her on their side… made her believe that my dad was responsible. My mom she's, or at least she was," Clarke sighed, the exhaustion of having this conversation finally hitting her, "She always believed in justice, in doing what was right. If she truly thought that my father had killed someone she would have thought he deserved to do the time. Even I can't blame her for that."

"It's messed up, but it's fair I guess."

Clarke steeled her voice, "It would have been. Had she not found out three weeks after a trial that the whole thing had been a scam. I was fourteen years old and she let me believe that my father was guilty. _She_ let me believe it Bellamy. It wasn't until Wells finally stopped protecting her when I was eighteen that I found out my father had been innocent, that he'd been doing the right thing. That an innocent man had been beaten to death in prison."

"_Clarke_ —,"

She didn't know when her eyes had started welling up and burning with tears. Or when that familiar ache in her throat started suffocating her from within.

"My mom didn't lie on the stand, I don't believe that. But, my mother always believed in justice above all else. I think — I think she believed the lies she was being told, and I believe she thought she was doing the right thing and when she found out after the trial that it had all been a set up. She thought she was protecting me. She was protecting me by keeping things from me. Or something like that, I don't know anymore. I don't want to know anymore. I just know I've never been able to forgive her, and I think a part of me hates myself for that more than I hated her."

She sighed and looked at her hands. Bellamy was silent as the grave and in her periphery she could see his fists which were clenched at his sides. Clarke broke the silence between them, "Back in college I was always jealous of Octavia, you know? And you — to an extent."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see he was taken aback. "Why?"

Clarke shrugged in embarrassment, "You were a family. Even when she was pissed off at you, the two of you always found a way to make it work."

He studied her closely, "Our envy always lasts longer than the happiness of those we envy."

She raised a brow and he obliged her unanswered question, "Heraclitus — ancient Greek philosopher."

Clarke shoved him half heartedly, "Show off."

He smirked. "You have nothing to envy, you know? She's as much your family as mine."

She smiled softly because she knew that now. Bellamy shifted closer to her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body — she felt like ice in comparison. She shivered, but not from the cold as he gently placed his hand atop her own. She watched as he frowned before bringing his other hand to envelope it. Silently he began rubbing his hands over hers, the friction generating heat with each stroke.

"Your hands are freezing," he muttered. Clarke laughed weakly, but the tightness in her throat had it coming out as more like a sob or a choke.

"Blame my shitty circulation."

When he grew frustrated he brought the pair of their hands up to his lips and breathed on them, the hot air tickled her skin and she felt her stomach twist. After a few more silent moments he must have felt satisfied or maybe self conscious — not entirely sure whether or not he'd crossed a line as he returned her hands to her lap. Clarke wasn't sure she wanted lines to exist anymore.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," he whispered before continuing, "Do you —," it looked like the words were almost painful for him to say. "Do you regret coming today? I can take you home, if that's what you need. We don't have to stay here"

She shook her head, "No that's the thing, I _want _to be here. I want to remember what it's like. I want to feel it again, I want to feel —,"

"Like you have a family," he finished for her. She choked back a strangled sob that was threatening to escape. She felt a tear or two slide down her cheek. Clarke was annoyed with herself when she realized that this was not the first time she'd broken down in front of Bellamy Blake. Even in the time she'd known Octavia, Clarke was used to being the pinnacle of composure and yet here she was, sitting on the concrete side walk crying before her best friend's brother.

"You do Clarke." His thumb had reached up to wipe away the tear she'd just shed. "Maybe we choose our family. And maybe family is no more than the people who stick around no matter how hard we try to shake them off. And it looks to me like you've already got all that Princess." She twisted her lips into a weak smile, but a part of her believed him. Clarke let herself rest her head against his shoulder the way she had nights and nights ago on their neighbours couch with sleeping children a few steps away.

She wasn't sure how much time passed before he broke the silence between them. "You ready to go back? By my count it looks like we've still got," he twisted his wrist to get a look at his watch, "2 hours left of this. Might as well make the most of it."

She straightened herself and gave him a small teasing grin, "Whatever happened to our plan of mutual disdain."

He smirked at her, "Something tells me you and I could do without the angst for a bit."

"I can't argue with that."

At that moment they were interrupted as Murphy joined them outside. His gaze immediately dropped to the ground where they were sitting and his mouth quirked up into it's characteristic smirk.

"Now isn't this precious."

She couldn't make out what Bellamy muttered under his breath as he stood up, patting her knee gently as he did so. It was a casual touch and yet she liked to think that somehow he knew it was a small comfort to her. She took his outstretched hand and he pulled her up — she tried to ignore the fact that she was disappointed when he let it go.

He walked into the Ark leaving Clarke outside with Murphy who was leering at her with a teasing grin.

"Oh shut up," Clarke muttered.

"I didn't say anything!"

She shot him a look, "You were thinking. Loudly."

"See this a new one, can't say my internal dialogue has ever offended anyone before Griffin."

"Oh I'm sure it has. So what's your verdict? You glad you came to this?"

He twirled his fingers around what looked to be an unlit joint, "I'd consider myself thoroughly entertained. It almost beats getting drunk by myself." He lit and exhaled a puff of what was undoubtedly weed into Clarke's immediate vicinity. She swatted at the air, "Jesus Murphy!"

"It's John actually."

Clarke shot him a deadpanned stare, "Not your best." She turned on her heel to go back into the Ark when his hand reached for her arm.

"Wait. I've got something for you."

She knit her brows in trepidation, "What is it? I wouldn't have pegged you for the gift giving type?"

"Why Griffin I am offended. Selflessness, generosity, _kindness_ — those are the ABCs of me."

Clarke rolled her eyes, "Replace those with sarcasm, corruption, and narcissism and I'll believe it."

"Touché. Now hold out your hand." She did as he asked and flexed it expectantly. She frowned and looked up at him when a set of keys dropped into her hand.

"What's this?"

"Keys Griffin, kids these days say they're the next big thing." When she didn't give his sarcasm the reaction he'd been expecting he continued more seriously than before. "I got them from a friend. The apartment's for sale, one bedroom, cheap. It's yours if you want it."

She stared at the key in her hand intently, like accepting it would be answering a question she hadn't even known was being asked.

"Unless you'd rather keep shacking up with your best friend's brother that is."

Clarke frowned and put the key in her purse. She'd deal with that later.

"I'll consider it."

He smirked smugly, "So when are you going to tell Blake that he might have to find himself a new roommate again." Clarke paused. She hadn't even consider how Bellamy would read into her decision to check out a new apartment. Would he even care? A part of her believed that he would, but still, no matter where she lived it wouldn't change the friendship they'd been building for the past few months. Would it?

"Later. This stays between us you got that?"

"Seems to be a lot of that going around lately. Yeah I got that Griffin. I'll drive us there on Tuesday?"

She nodded curtly and moved to go.

"Hey Clarke," she turned to face him and he was looking at her with an unnerving expression. One that almost looked like pity. He wrapped her up in a short and albeit slightly awkward hug before promptly releasing her. "Happy Thanksgiving. Go take a break. You deserve it."

She smiled at him cautiously, "Thanks Murphy. You know that was almost human of you."

"You're imagining things."

"Oh I don't think I am. Don't get hit by a car while you're out here."

"Careful Griffin, another comment like that and I might start to think you actually care about little ole me."

She rolled her eyes, "You're imagining things." And with that she walked back into the Ark, leaving him and his weed outside alone. Something told her that maybe that's where he was happiest. Or maybe John Murphy was just as good at pretending as the rest of them.

* * *

When she walked back into the Ark the scene had changed. Someone had pushed the cleared tables to the side and folded them back up against the wall. The floor of the Ark was open again like it would be on any other night. Music was blasting from the speakers and people were dancing without reservation.

"Clarke!"

She set her purse down and hurried over to where O was twirling around this way and that in the company of Harper, Monroe, Lincoln, and Miller.

"Where's Bellamy?" Octavia cocked her head to where he and Bryan were leaning against the bar, watching the scene before them with amusement.

"Oh no he doesn't." she said. Miller laughed as he grabbed Clarke's wrist and begin dancing with her the way they had a week prior, "Good luck trying to get the two of them out here. They're as stubborn as mules. Worse."

Clarke frowned and tugged Miller through the crowd, "Eh jesus Clarke, warning next time!"

They made their way to the bar where Bryan and Bellamy were laughing obliviously. Clarke snatched the beer from Bellamy's hand and his eyes widened in shock. Miller snorted, "Nice to see we're not going with the subtle approach."

Bryan groaned when Miller stretched out his hands, "Do I have to?"

"It's Thanksgiving. You should be thankful you're even capable of dancing."

Bryan rolled his eyes, but allowed himself to relinquish his hand to Miller. "You're a dick you know that," and the two of them left to join the rest of their friends. Clarke looked over at them fondly. _Stubborn as a mule,_ her ass. She returned her gaze to Bellamy who had his arms crossed before his chest.

"I was drinking that," he nodded towards the beer. She had to lean across him to set the drink down on the bar behind him.

"You'll survive. Now come on."

He looked at her like he was entertained with her attempt, "Nice try Princess, but I'm good right here."

"You are most definitely not. Come on Bellamy, _please_." She flashed him a pleading look. He stared back at her with an expression she couldn't place before he laughed.

"No way, that is not working on me."

She huffed in exasperation and poked his chest, "You promised."

"And what exactly did I promise?"

"To make the most of it!" The boy had some serious recall issues.

Bellamy narrowed his eyes skeptically, "Submitting myself to your two left feet isn't exactly my idea of making the most of it."

"Yes well you failed to specify that so come on."

He sighed as he looked at her, "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

She smiled as she shook her head while he groaned. This time she was the one to take his hand and drag them out.

Harper and Miller teased him incessantly as Clarke turned to dance with Octavia, but eventually the group of them were all twirling around like idiots. Younger kids from Lincoln's side of the family weaved in and out between their legs and Clarke could even make out Roan out from the corner of her eye carrying a little girl around the party on piggyback. Even Bellamy, despite his reluctance which she was sure had been just a front, was enjoying himself. Even though…

Clarke snickered above the music, "Oh my god."

"What?" They'd gotten closer now so she didn't have to yell.

"You're literally worse than I am."

His eyes sparkled as he had to lean down to look at her, "Not possible."

"Oh I think it is."

"Is that so?"

She was breathless as he lifted her by the waist with one arm and spun her around. She had to clutch his forearm as her feet left the ground and she shrieked while he laughed in her ear. For a moment she felt like a kid again in the sense that she felt weightless in the way that only a child can truly be. When he set her down she opened her eyes and looked at him, the person who somewhere over the course of the past few months had managed to make her feel this way. His face was open and bright, free of any inhibitions and for a split second she thought if she could spend the rest of her life frozen in this moment that she would never tire of being looked at by Bellamy Blake.

Before either of them had noticed, the music had change to something softer and slower. He didn't need to ask, it was unspoken at this point, before he pulled Clarke closer. She trailed her arms up so that one was wrapped across his back while the other rested on his shoulder — his hands settled comfortably and firmly around her waist.

_Maps stretched out —_

_too many miles to count._

_Let's just say we're inches apart,_

_even closer at heart, _

_and we'll be just fine._

They swayed easily in time with the music, it's gentle rhythm giving Clarke the illusion that the rest of the party had faded away. She let herself give into it and rested her chin on Bellamy's shoulder not unlike the way she had a week ago and closed her eyes. It was easier to pretend this way — that it was just them. Over the course of her life Clarke had found that when it came to things she wanted to remember, images faded infinitely faster than feelings, and this was something she wanted, _needed_, to feel.

It was barely above a whisper, but after a while she heard and felt his deep voice tickle her ear, "What are you thinking about?"

_Another pin pushed in,_

_to remind us where we've been._

_And every mile adds up,_

_and leaves it's mark on us_

She craned her neck slightly and twisted it around to peer at the scene surrounding them. Closest to the centre of the group she could see Lincoln and Octavia. Despite their difference in height and build Clarke wasn't sure if she'd ever seen two people fit together more perfectly. Her best friend was smiling as Lincoln bent his head down and whispered god knows what into her ear. There was something so intimate about it, so full of unabashed love, that Clarke pulled her gaze away. What she failed to think about was the fact that if someone had deigned to look at her and Bellamy in that moment, they would have seen the exact same thing.

One of his hands had started rubbing comforting circles at the small of her back and a part of her wasn't sure the movement was even conscious on his part. Clarke thought there was no way he wouldn't be able to register the shiver that ran up and down her spine with every touch. She pulled her head back ever so slightly so that she could look at him. Images faded faster that feelings yes, but his face was one she planned to commit to memory. And she wanted it remembered just like this, unguarded, honest, and maybe slightly scared as he waited for her response.

"Did you ever imagine us getting here?"

He breathed out and looked down at the ground before looking back at her, "I think the answer to that is obviously no."

_And sometimes our compass breaks, _

_and our steady true north fades._

_We'll be just fine._

"Do you ever think…," she paused, trying to find the words.

"What?" There was a wrinkle between his brow and she could tell she was making him nervous.

"Do you ever think that maybe if you and I had bothered to have an honest conversation instead of just hating each other we would have ended up differently."

Bellamy looked at her fixedly without saying a word and Clarke almost couldn't bear the intensity of his gaze so she shifted her eyes to focus on the bracelet on her wrist.

_We'll be just fine. _

_We'll be just fine._

_We'll be just fine._

_I know that we will._

_I just know we will. _

"I think," he started softly, "I think that you and I are past the point where we can blame ourselves for what we thought or did in the past."

She nodded and opened her mouth to respond, but he wasn't done. She saw Bellamy avert his gaze and shake his head, whether he was frustrated with her or himself she couldn't tell.

_Time moves slow_

_When half of your heart has yet to come home._

_Every minute's adding up, _

_and leaving a mark on us._

"I don't want to remember a time where I hated you Clarke." She wasn't sure how he did it — how her one syllable name managed to sound like so much more when coming out of his mouth. "Not when I don't think I ever really did." He was looking at her now, more desperately than before with an expression she was afraid to name. "I don't want to remember a time where I didn't want to know you, not when I — "

Her breath caught in her throat and for a moment neither of them said anything. She thought that if he looked at her like that for much longer she was going to do something she would probably regret.

"Not when now you do know me."

He swallowed and looked away.

_I can't get you out of my mind._

_I can't get you out of my mind._

_I can't get you out of my mind._

_And I solemnly swear,_

_I swear that I'll never try._

Her mind raced over everything they'd been through since they'd moved in together. All the arguments, and all the peaceful moments that came with them. The way he hadn't hesitated to defend her in front of Finn, the way he never seemed to hesitate to be there when she needed him. It had unnerved her before, the way he seemed to understand the inner workings of her mind, but now she felt differently about it. Now it made her feel safe.

"You _do _know me, Bellamy," she said it confidently. At this point she wasn't sure whether she was saying it for him or for herself. It seemed silly to have to state something that had become so obvious. To her, and apparently, to everyone else. "You're the only person I've ever trusted enough to spill the mess that is my life onto, ok?"

He frowned, "But what about Murphy?"

She shook her head, "I told him half truths, that's all. You're… you're the only one that knows how screwed up everything really is."

"You are not screwed up," he was looking at her intensely now and Clarke could feel her composure starting to waver. Everything about this was too much, she was feeling too much, and she didn't know how to compartmentalize any of it. But maybe it was time she stopped doing that, maybe it was time she stopped being afraid of not having everything together.

She lowered her voice, "It's been a long time since I've had someone I could lean on. Someone I've needed. I… I'm not sure I know how to do… _this_." She couldn't remember the last time she'd been vulnerable like this, maybe she never had been.

And at that he chuckled softly and pulled her closer. She wrapped both arms around his neck, needing him to know she cared, needing him to know that he was important to her in ways she was only just beginning to understand.

"What's so funny?"

"Despite what you may believe, you don't need to know how to do everything Clarke."

"Yes well it doesn't hurt," she muttered testily into his neck which motivated him to release another soft chuckle.

"We'll figure it out," he whispered soothingly, and after a beat, "Together."

She knew they were wrapped around each other so tightly that what they were doing could barely even qualify was dancing anymore. She could only imagine how the two of them looked to everyone else, two people standing still and hugging each other with everything they had. The music was reaching a lull and she knew that in a few seconds the song would come to an end, but that didn't matter. She would hold on for as long as she could. She had no idea what was happening between them, nor did she know what would happen next, but for the first time in her life she was ok with that.

_We'll be just fine. _

_We'll be just fine._

_It's a matter of time,_

'_til our compass stands still._

'_Til our compass stands still. _

That night they walked together in comfortable silence - that post turkey delirious haze had settled between them. Clarke walked with lighter steps and easier smiles as she thought about how differently her day had ended versus where it had began. And when Bellamy opened the door to their apartment she experienced an overwhelming sense of relief, the kind she hadn't necessarily realized she'd been missing - the kind one only feels when they finally make it home.

* * *

**A/N (part 2) : **Good God, this chapter. I must have rewritten it two times and I'm sill not sure how I feel about the way it came out. I had a few key moments I definitely wanted to pack into this one and I hope I did them justice. Jealous Bellamy was fun to write, bless his heart. There were a few characters I definitely wanted to utilize a bit more in this chapter, but there was already so much going on with the Bellamy and Clarke of it all some things had to be sacrificed. (Which is a gosh darn shame because all I want is fanfic of Roan calling out Bellamy and Clarke… please let 3x15 give us that). BUT I can say I do plan on incorporating them again later on.

This chapter felt far more emotionally loaded than some of the ones leading up to it and I think it almost ended up unintentionally reflecting the tone of Bellarke on the show right now. I think their relationship (both in this story and in canon) is at a turning point and I definitely think Bellamy's feelings have been realized even though they remain unspoken. Anyways I still tried to keep things as light as a could even amongst all the angst. Don't worry though, I'll try not to make things overly intense from here on out, although Bellarke wouldn't be Bellarke without a bit of angst.

I'm going to do my best not to slack off with this, but I feel the need to disclaimer that I am starting a new job within the next week so the real world is going to be kicking my ass for the next little bit. Also on another irrelevant side note I've started another story on here called As The Romans Do! I feel weird doing some shameless self promoing, _but_ it's another modern day AU (set in Italy this time around) that I am quite excited about, so if it sounds like something you may be interested in I'd obviously love it if you gave it a read :) (Although let's be real I really shouldn't be starting anything new, not when I've already been working on this for over a year so that story will probably be on the back burner until this is all wrapped up)

ANYWAYS this is already obnoxiously long, but as always I really want to thank everyone who follows along with this story. It's gotten far more attention than I ever expected. I really hate how shit I am at replying to reviews, but I do read them all and not to be cheesy and annoying, but they seriously all make me so happy and keep me motivated to continue so thank you :) I hope you enjoyed the update!


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